


Gonna Hide My Wings Tonight

by HappyFunBallXD



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, M/M, Psychotherapy, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyFunBallXD/pseuds/HappyFunBallXD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1947--A special wing of an old asylum is dubbed the 'Angel Wing', since all the patients there claim to be angels (and in other cases, a demon and a pagan god). The administration claims them to have schizophrenia. A team of detectives is sent to look over the place, one undercover. What's wrong with the patients in the Angel Wing, and what does the administration have to hide?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've been setting myself up for the fall…

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thanks to my wonderful artist, [cs-kiddo](http://http://maxwell-kiddo.devianart.com/), who pinch-hitted for me. I absolutely adore her art and it was wonderful to work with her! Thanks to [9_of_clubs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/9_of_clubs) for betaing for me, as well as poking me when I needed to finish it (along with [shellygurumi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shellygurumi)). And thanks to the mods for being so helpful with all the problems that came up.
> 
> [8tracks fanmix here!](http://8tracks.com/happyfunballxd/gonna-hide-my-wings-tonight)

 

"Are you--"

"Sam," Dean interrupted, leveling his brother with a stern look. "If you ask me if I'm sure about doing this one more time, I'm going to lock you in the trunk and not telling Bobby where the key is for a week. I'll be FINE."

Sam huffed, crossing his arms. He glared at the other detective as he leaned against the brick wall, the only thing standing between them and the imposing building. "I just wanna make sure you know what you're getting into. If we're right about this, it could be fairly dangerous."

"It's only a week, Sam, I'll be okay." Dean shrugged the concern off, looking up at the building. The Wayfaire Asylum loomed over them, casting an impressive shadow. Four floors tall and more reminiscent of a prison than a mental hospital, it was the brothers' latest assignment. All the windows were drawn and barred, although it was the top floor that held the most priority.

It was called the Angel Ward. The smallest ward at Wayfaire, it only housed seven patients, all under the delusion that they were vessels for angels. From what research Sam was able to do on the place before their investigation, there were a few differences between the patients, but for the most part they told the same story. They were each housing what they thought was an honest to God angel of the Lord.

The doctors had written them off as schizophrenic cases, delusional and hallucinating. This on its own wasn't enough to bring suspicion upon the hospital, however. It was the fact that none of the patients in that ward were allowed visitors, although they weren't classified as dangerous patients, for the most part. And no one from the Ward was ever released. While Wayfaire had seen patients from the lower wards taken home by their families, no one ever left the Angel Ward. Once you were there, no one saw you again.

Rumor had it the angels in the ward were hidden away on purpose. The angels no one wanted were allegedly being used to work some old- school psychotherapy. Which was precisely why Sam and Dean Winchester were on the case. The brothers were to find evidence of mistreatment in the Angel Ward, and report it to higher authority. They wanted to see the place shut down.

For more reasons than the obvious.

The main problem was getting inside. The Angel Ward was kept separate from the other parts of the hospital. Only the staff was allowed to associate with the patients, and even then, contact was minimal. So they couldn't just waltz in and speak to some angels. They also couldn't conduct a formal investigation. They'd tried that before, years ago, and had gotten nowhere. The building's administration had caught wind in advance and made the perfect presentation. All the patients were sedated, and none of them spoke a word.

So when Chief Singer had come to the pair with the case, they jumped at the chance to give it another shot. He'd come to them personally, knowing they would want the case. The first attempt had been their father's last case, after all. It only made sense that they'd want to finish it for him.

This time, they were going in undercover. One agent on the inside, the other watching from outside. The inside agent had a week to gather evidence under the guise as a patient, before the second came to retrieve him.

Sam was right. It could be dangerous. So there was no way Dean was letting his baby brother go into that sort of situation. No amount of arguing from his sibling was going to change his mind. Sammy was better at the research and planning. Dean was the man of action and quick thinking.

The older detective shook his head to clear it of his thoughts, reaching for the suitcase by his feet. He gave his brother a placating grin. "It's no problem, Sammy. If something's up, I'll get your attention through the window, and you can come get me out. Nothing's gonna happen."

Sam rolled his eyes, his thoughts on the matter obvious. All his arguing still hadn't changed the other's mind, so the best he could do was playing his own part, watching where Dean was placed in the ward and camping out by the window to keep watch. Since the Angel Ward patients weren't allowed to contact anyone, it was the only signal they could come up with in case something went wrong. It wasn't foolproof, but it was better than leaving the other in there with no escape.

Dean picked up the suitcase, signaling the time to get this operation started. The younger detective took a deep breath, walking beside his brother as the pair passed through the gates, stepping up the porch and inside Wayfaire Asylum.

The inside was as quiet as the exterior. Slightly odd, for a building housing over a hundred mentally unstable patients, many prone to spontaneous outbursts. However, for the most part, it was silent. A few men and women sat in chairs in the front hall, reading or relaxing. Orderlies walked the halls in their spotless white uniforms, keeping peace and supervising. The brothers made their way to the front desk, Sam leading Dean by the arm under the guise of a sibling worried for the other's mental health. Which, to be honest, wasn't all that far from the truth.

The secretary greeted them with a friendly smile, pausing in her work to listen as Sam introduced them, asking what all was needed to sign his brother in. The girl, Becky, handed him the papers and went to fetch an administrator to assist them. Dean sat in one of the empty chairs, staring resolutely at the floor with narrowed eyes and playing his part of the unwilling patient almost perfectly.

Becky returned moments later with an older man, introducing him to the brothers as Dr. Adler, founder of the hospital. Sam, in turn, introduced the both of them, outlining his brother's supposed condition. Neither missed how the doctor's eyes lit up as Sam described Dean's faked outburst of hallucinations, calling himself the archangel Michael.

Dr. Adler admitted Dean to the Angel Ward right away.

oOoOo

Sam insisted on walking with Dean as he was shown his room. He was Dean's only family, after all, and he wanted to be sure his brother would be cared for adequately. He also needed to know which window he'd be watching for any kind of signal that the assignment was going awry. Of course, what the doctor didn't know wouldn't hurt the Winchesters. Dr. Adler readily agreed, and the three of them, joined by a serious- looking orderly took the stairs to the top floor.

The patients in the Ward were housed two per room, which was reasonable enough. Each room was a fair size, not too small to be considered uncomfortable. There were two metal frame beds, one on either side of the room, as well as two plain brown wardrobes. One of the beds was made neatly, while the other was bare, fresh sheets folded atop it.

He left after that. Left Dean to the mercy of the system, as far as Dr. Adler was concerned. Both the brothers knew otherwise, and it was a relief to Dean, who found himself slightly more nervous once inside the building. The orderly, who had been introduced simply as Uri, was staring him down, as if seeing how much of a fight he could expect of the new patient. Dean stayed silent, trying to present a calm and meek demeanor. The doctor left soon after his brother, taking Uri with him and locking Dean in the room. The detective sighed, setting his suitcase beside the empty wardrobe and moving to unfold the stiff sheets, making the bed.

Once the bed was made and clothes he'd been allowed to keep put up in the wardrobe, Dean flopped on the bed, the springs creaking under him as he stared up at the ceiling. There was nothing for him to do until someone came for him. He could pick the lock, obviously, but he didn't want to chance drawing attention to himself so soon. He'd blow his cover like that.

He looked up as the lock turned on the door, opening up as Uri stepped inside once again. Dean sat up, regarding the orderly curiously.

"Need something?"

The other rolled his eyes. "Cute. Get up."

Dean arched a brow, but didn't move. "I just got here."

"And now you're just leaving," Uri snapped. He moved closer, grabbing the detective by the arm roughly.

Dean resisted. Sam had gone over everything with him before, about his supposed 'condition'. He was supposed to believe that he was an archangel, one of the most powerful. It wouldn't look very convincing if he rolled over for every doctor and orderly in the place. Not that Dean would stand for that on a normal basis anyway.

"Where do you want me to go?"

Uri yanked his arm, hard. Dean winced just slightly, but held his ground. He glared at the other man, refusing to move until he was answered. It was the Michael thing to do.

"You're being requested for a session with your doctor," he growled, his grip tightening on the smaller man's arm. If he left a bruise, it wasn't his fault, it was the patient's fault for resisting.

Dean grinned. "Well, why didn't you just say that to begin with? I'm curious to see what the doc thinks he can do for me…"

He got to his feet, yanking his arm out of Uri's grasp and making a show of brushing off his sleeve. Turning around to face the orderly, he was rewarded with a very heavy fist colliding with his jaw. His head snapped back with the force of it, a grunt of pain slipping out. Uri adjusted his jacket, the picture of calm, as Dean rubbed his jaw, his tongue prodding experimentally at the sore place.

"Shall we go?" Uri asked with a smirk.

Dean narrowed his eyes, but didn't put up any more of a fight, only letting the larger man lead him out of the room with a hand heavy on his shoulder.

Dean trudged down the hall, followed closely by Uri. He frowned, deliberately slowing his pace, hands shoved in his pants pockets. The orderly growled, but said nothing. He knew he was supposed to be on his best behavior, but he couldn't help riling the big guy up a bit. Served him right.

He took the opportunity to have a look around. The halls were empty for the most part. Boring, clinical white walls and tile floors. The monotony was broken only by oak doors, all of which were shut. The only noise was coming from the large room at the end of the hall. The common room, he supposed. It sounded like there was a game going on, probably cards or something. This was probably why the halls were so empty.

Uri put a hand on his shoulder, leading him to turn at a fork in the hallway, away from the noisy room. Right. He had a doctor to see, no time for fun. Plenty of time to meet the crazies later.

He shrugged the orderly's hand off his shoulder once they'd made the turn. Uri didn't say anything, which Dean was beginning to consider a small blessing. Now if he could just manage to get by without getting punched again. Once was enough for one day at least. He hoped all the orderlies weren't as violent as Chuckles here.

One of the doors along the hall opened, and two people slipped out. One was an orderly, much smaller than Uri, a twitchy little frazzled guy. The other was dressed plainly like the rest of the patients in the Ward. He was looking down at the tiles as the pair walked. Dean watched them as they passed him. The patient's gaze tilted up when he noticed they weren't alone in the hall.

The first thing he noticed was the guy's eyes. Wide and bright blue, they locked with his own and didn't move. It was a little awkward, like the patient was trying to stare through him. He was a little shorter than Dean himself, smaller in frame as well. His dark hair was ruffled, giving him a sort of wild look about him, almost like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck in the middle of the night. The eyes didn't help that look at all.

The pair moved past Dean and Uri, yet the smaller patient wouldn't stop staring. He let the twitchy orderly lead him along, but his head turned to keep his eyes on Dean's. Too shocked to do anything else, Dean stared back until Uri pushed him ahead, forcing him to look ahead to keep from losing his balance.

That was weird.

Dean rubbed his jaw absently, poking at the bruise there. For all he knew, the weird guy had been staring at the giant purple mark on his face. That seemed more likely, since there really wasn't any other reason for him to stare at Dean like he was. Or maybe it was because he was a new face. According to Sam, mental patients didn't always react well to change. Hell, NORMAL people sometimes didn't react well to change. Maybe the guy was just scared because he'd never seen Dean wandering around his ward before.

He was jolted from his thoughts as Uri's hand on his shoulder tightened, halting him. They were at the same door the other two had come out of. He supposed he and the weird guy shared a doctor.

Uri reached past him, knocking on the door. He didn't wait for an answer, grabbing the knob and pushing it open. The room was set up like an office, although it was empty. Dean blinked, momentarily confused. Uri didn't seem to think anything of it, just leading Dean inside and all but pushing him down into a wooden chair facing the desk.

"Stay here. The doctor will be with you when he's ready. I'll be outside, so don't think you can try anything."

Dean rolled his eyes, relaxing back in the chair like he'd chosen to sit there, rather than manhandled into it. "Yeah, sure thing, Chuckles. Have fun out there."

Uri growled in his throat, and Dean almost expected to be punched again. Instead, the door to an adjacent room opened. A man stepped inside, focusing immediately on Dean, before glancing up at Uri.

"Thank you for showing him here, Uri. I'll take it from here." The doctor smiled, a real smile. His words were accented, a quiet sort of English that spoke of quick wit.

The orderly nodded curtly, taking a step back towards the door they'd come from. Dean grinned, giving the man a lazy mock salute as he left.

The doctor turned to him. "So. Mister Winchester, was it?"

"Used to be," Dean replied. Part of the cover was remembering that he wasn't supposed to be Dean anymore. He was Michael now. "He's still in here somewhere."

The doctor nodded, like this was par for the course. He was an unassuming man in a white dress shirt an tartan sweater vest, a bit on the plump side, with curly blond hair and soft blue eyes. He adjusted his round frame glasses, looking over a folder which most likely contained Dean's paperwork. Dean watched him, his detective senses going to work on reading the other man, classifying him as a threat or a possible ally.

He glanced up from the papers with another smile. "Michael then. Would you prefer I call you that?"

Dean nodded.

"Good. I'm Dr. A. Ziraphale. You may call me Az if you like." He chuckled softly. "Most of the others do."

"Az then. You're supposed to cure me, huh?"

He didn't miss a beat. "I'm supposed to help you. To see why you think the way you do. I'm not here to pass judgment, or to tell you that you need to be 'cured'. Only to listen and offer my assistance."

Dean reclined back in the seat. "That sounds all well and nice, Doc, but we all know why I'm here, and why you're here. Why the rest of these nut jobs are here."

"You shouldn't call them that," Dr. Ziraphale chastised.

He shrugged. "I'm sure I'm not the only one. We're all angels, and you lowly little humans think we're just broken in the brain."

Az frowned a little, although on him, it came out more as a pout. "Michael, please. We're just trying to understand your situations."

Dean fixed him with a level gaze. "How? By drilling holes in our heads and poking around at nerves?"

Whatever he expected from the doctor, it wasn't the sharp gasp and look of hurt across his face. "I assure you, De-- Michael, whatever you might have heard about treatments in other hospitals, nothing of the sort goes on at this institution. It's a barbaric process and I wouldn't stand by it under any circumstance."

For whatever reason, Dean believed him. Not that the treatments weren't happening in the hospital, but that this doctor THOUGHT that they didn't. Az wasn't lying to Dean, he could tell. He knew how to read people, and this man believed wholeheartedly that he was doing the best for his patients. So whatever was going on in this place-- and there was something, Dean knew it-- Az wasn't involved. He was telling the truth; he wouldn't stand for it.

He nodded. "Fair enough, Doc. What do you wanna talk about?"

Az relaxed a bit, letting out a calming breath. His smile returned. "Since this is our first session, I'd like for us to get to know each other a bit better. So if you have any questions, about myself, or the process, or the institution itself, I'll answer them for you."

He had questions about the institution alright. They were just things he couldn't ask. He'd have to find out for himself. Although he figured he should ask something, at least. A person suddenly tossed into a mental ward would have plenty of questions. And the doctor was looking at him like he was so fucking happy to help.

He grinned. "What's the food like here?"

Az chuckled. "It's passable. Just try to stay away from the meatloaf."

Dean snorted. He was starting to like this guy. "So I can ask about anything?"

He nodded. "If it's within my power to answer, I will."

Gnawing on his lip, he thought back to the patient in the hall, staring at him. "Your last patient, dark haired guy with the huge blue eyes…"

"Jimmy," Az tilted his head thoughtfully. "He goes by Castiel."

"Castiel?" Dean frowned, testing the name out. He'd never heard of that particular angel before. Not like he made a habit of studying angels. He knew a bit, thanks to the case, but Sam had done most of the research on that part. He supposed Michael would know, so he kept quiet about that.

"Yes," the doctor continued. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much about him, though. Patient confidentiality, of course. You understand."

"Right, yeah. I just wondered when I'd get to start meeting the other angels."

"Oh! Of course, of course!" he brightened. "Well, most of the afternoons are spent in the common room, aside from your session. So they'll be plenty of time for socialization, even if you may not get much chance today. You'll probably get a chance at mealtime though. And your roommate, of course. Have you gotten the chance to meet with him?"

Dean shook his head. "Wasn't there when I was brought in."

"He must have been in his own session, then."

"Know anything about him?"

"I'm afraid I don't. I'm not his doctor. He meets with…" Az glanced down, shuffling through some papers. "Dr. Lilith."

Dean hummed, rolling his shoulders in a stretch. "How many doctors are in this place anyway?"

"The staff houses at least seven doctors, but Dr. Lilith and I are the only ones assigned to this particular floor."

"With the angels."

"Yes."

"So, do I get to talk to Dr. Lilith too, or just you?"

He caught the small pout that flashed on the other man's lips, before it was gone again. "I'm technically your corresponding doctor, although if you aren't happy with me, I can send a request to have you transferred."

"Not necessary," Dean offered a smile, trying to put the doctor at ease. He felt like a bit of an ass for bringing it up. "Just a little curious.”

Az glanced at the watch on his wrist, frowning. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut this session short today. You weren't expected, but I wanted a chance to talk to you. I've got another session starting soon, so we can start our serious conversations tomorrow, if that's alright with you?"

He nodded, getting to his feet. "Sure thing, Doc. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Az smiled, reaching to shake his hand before leading him toward the door. "Uri will see you back to your room. You should have an hour or so before dinner."

He opened the door, guiding him out. Uri was sitting in one of the chairs beside the office, reading a magazine. He stood instantly, his hand gripping Dean's shoulder. Az smiled at him once again, before returning to his office to await his next patient.

Dean didn't put up a fight this time, just letting Uri lead him down the hall. It didn't stop the orderly from keeping a firm grip on his shoulder. Dean figured it was only fair. Not like he'd given the guy any reason to relax around him. Still, he was going to have one hell of a bruise on his shoulder after a week of this.

Uri wasted no time in leading him back to his room. Which was fine as far as Dean was concerned; not like he wanted to spend any more time in the orderly's company than he had to. Uri unlocked the door, all but shoving him inside before locking it once again.

Dean glared at the door. "Yeah, sure, see ya 'round. I'm sure you've got other patients to brutalize!"

He let out a frustrated noise, fixing his shirt. He turned, intent on flopping back on his rickety bed until it was time to eat, but skidded to a halt.

He wasn't alone in the room.

"Fuck!" he jumped with a hiss, backing up as his space was invaded. He supposed the man was his roommate. He was taller than Dean by a few inches, his blond hair cut short like his own. The other patient crossed his arms, regarding Dean quietly, blue eyes-- not as intensely blue as that other guy's though-- stared at him. Not in that awed way that Castiel had, but in a way made him want to squirm away, like he was being picked apart.

The guy leaned even closer, and Dean couldn't back up any more, already against the door. Their faces were only inches apart.

He smiled. It wasn't pleasant. "Michael."


	2. I feel alive and the world it's turning inside out…

Dean swallowed hard. "Uh… yeah."

Hands came up to grab at his shoulders. Dean was too shocked to push him away, just staring at him. His eyes blazed, excited.

"Michael, it's me. Lucifer."

Well. That explained the creepy. Apparently he was rooming with the guy who thought he was the freaking devil.

"Oh. Yeah, hey. How's it going?"

Lucifer's smile melted away instantly, leaving behind an icy glare. "You're not Michael."

Oh shit. "I'm not?"

The hands on his shoulders tightened, slamming him back against the door. Dean hissed, and Lucifer leaned even closer, cheeks grazing as he whispered in the detective's ear.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but I would know my own brother if he were here. And you are most certainly not him. So the question is, who are you, and why would you pretend to be him?"

Dean shivered despite himself. "Listen…"

Lucifer slammed him back again, harder this time. Dean started to protest again, but Lucifer cut him off, a hand leaving his shoulder to grab his hair roughly, yanking his head back.

"You're not him!"

His head was slammed into the door hard, knocking him dizzy for a moment. He shoved the other away, his own hand going to the place of contact. He didn't think it was hard enough to do any real damage, even if it hurt like a bitch.

"Back off, you fucking psycho!" he snapped, rolling quickly to the side as Lucifer lunged at him again. The blond snarled, slamming against the wall instead. Dean's side his the door handle and he hissed through his teeth, backing away from the wall.

Lucifer was on him in a second, tackling him to the floor. Dean let out a grunt as the air was knocked out of his lungs with the impact, coughing as he was pinned by the other patient's weight.

"How dare you come in here and pretend to be him! Do you have any idea how long I'd waited to see him again, only to have you come in here and make a mockery of everything?!"

Fingers latched onto Dean's throat, blunt nails digging into the skin. Dean let out a shout of surprise before his breath was cut off again, Lucifer squeezing his windpipe painfully. The detective kicked his legs, hoping to catch Lucifer in the back, anything to get the crazed man off him.

Lucifer only leaned closer, putting more weight on his hands against Dean's neck. His eyes locked on Dean's wide ones, blazing with anger as he tightened his grip. He was honestly going to kill him, and he was going to watch every second of it in fascination.

Panicking for a moment, Dean flailed his arms, trying to catch Lucifer off guard. He managed to slam a fist against the other's jaw, getting dizzy from the lack of air. Lucifer fell back, knocking his head against the wardrobe. Dean gasped for breath, taking in as much as he could. He scrambled to the door, banging on it as hard as he could manage.

Lucifer made a lunge for him once again, but this time Dean was ready, grabbing onto the other's arm and spinning them both, slamming the taller man against the wall and holding him there with his weight. Lucifer snarled, thrashing and shouting. Dean pressed him harder against the wall, trying to subdue him.

There was a noise at the door, mostly lost to the yelling that Lucifer was doing. Dean slid back just in time to miss the door swinging open, narrowly avoiding getting hit. Lucifer slammed into him once again, knocking them both to the floor. He grabbed Dean by the short collar, lifting him up only to knock him harder against the wood floor. Stars danced in his vision and he squeezed his eyes shut against it.

Suddenly the weight was gone. There was yelling, from Lucifer and from new voices. Dean curled on his side, fighting to get his head back under control. After a moment he blinked his eyes open to see what was going on. Uri was holding Lucifer against the wall now, the patient thrashing as he had in Dean's hold. Az was kneeling beside him, reaching out a hand to set on his shoulder.

"Are you alright, dear boy?"

Dean grumbled something to the affirmative. There was a hand offered to him, and he took it, getting slowly to his feet. The hand belonged to the twitchy orderly he'd seen with that Jimmy guy in the hall earlier.

"Uri, please calm Lucifer down, Chuck, can you get Michael's things? We'll take him to room with someone else."

"Don't let him leave here!" Lucifer snarled, fighting uselessly in Uri's hold. "He's a liar! He's mocking us all!"

"Uri, PLEASE." Az said urgently. The orderly nodded, taking a syringe from his pocket, wasting no time in sticking it into Lucifer's shoulder.

Chuck grabbed Dean's suitcase, pressing a hand to the detective's shoulder blades. "Let's go."

He led Dean out of the room, followed quickly by the doctor, leaving Uri to take care of Lucifer.

Az sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose before replacing his glasses. Dean held his hands out in a placating manner.

"I didn't egg him on or anything, I swear. I got back to the room and he went off on me."

"I know," the doctor replied, "I just don't know why Dr. Lilith thought it would be a good idea to make the two of you room together."

The twitchy orderly-- Chuck, as Az had called him-- patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay. Nick's like that with pretty much everyone. Lilith's the only one he really gets along with. Everyone else pretty much avoids him."

The blonde frowned. "That's not good for his social skills… but I suppose it can't be helped, if things like this keep happening."

Chuck led the small group down the hall. "Pretty soon, he'll be the only one with his own room."

"So where am I going now?" Dean followed along, rubbing at his neck. He was amassing a fair amount of injuries, for this being only his first day here. He was glad he was here, instead of his little brother.

The short orderly stopped in front of another door, fishing his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. "Jimmy's our quietest patient. You won't have any problems with him."

Dean frowned. He'd heard that name today. "Jimmy… y'mean Castiel?"

"Yes," Az replied, knocking on the door before opening it. Not that it mattered, since the door being unlocked was enough of a warning that he had visitors. Dean supposed it was a trust thing. Or some other therapy nonsense. "Castiel?"

The man was sitting cross- legged on his bed, reading a book. He looked up at the three entered the room, and Dean felt those eyes on him again.

"Castiel, this is Michael," Az continued with a comforting smile. "He's going to be rooming with you, alright?"

Castiel nodded, marking his place in the book before setting it aside. "Of course."

Dean blinked. He wasn't expecting that deep gravel voice from someone smaller than he was. It was interesting.

Az gave Dean a gentle push toward the bed on the other side of the room. He set his suitcase down beside the empty wardrobe before sitting on the edge of the bed. It was just as creaky as the one he'd left, but at least the company was better.

"He's had a bit of a rough time so far," the doctor continued, "So if you could help him get settled in, possibly show him around during mealtime? It'd be a wonderful help."

The dark haired man nodded again and Az moved towards Chuck at the door. "Wonderful. Thank you. Now we'll leave you two to get better acquainted. Dinner will be soon."

Dean muttered a quick thanks, rubbing at his throat again. The doctor and the orderly left, locking the door behind them, and Dean turned to Castiel on the other bed.

"I hope you're a better roommate than Lucifer."

Castiel tilted his head, staring at him thoughtfully.

"You're… not really Michael."

Dean flopped back on the mattress. "Fuck, how am I so bad at this?" He sighed, running a hand nervously through his hair. "Look, you can't say anything, okay? I'm here to help you guys, but I need to keep the doctors thinking I'm this Michael guy."

Castiel regarded him silently for a few moments, until Dean lifted his head up to stare back.

"You with me, man?"

He jumped a bit, blinking, as if he'd been startled out of a trance. "Yes, of course."

"So can I count on you not to go spilling anything? Lucifer's bad enough, trying to strangle me cuz I'm not the archangel he was led to believe."

Castiel nodded. "It makes sense that he was angry. Michael is very special to him."

"Yeah, whatever. I just need to know I can kinda trust you with this. Maybe we can help each other out."

"How so?"

He offered a sheepish grin. "Well apparently I suck at being an archangel."

Castiel chuckled softly. "It wouldn't matter how good you were at acting the part. Angels can sense one another. You may be able to deceive the doctors and staff, but all of us will be able to tell right away."

Dean sighed. "Well okay. You think you can get your angel buddies to not rat me out?"

"It's possible I could convince them. It would be easier if I knew why you were here."

He rubbed the bruises on his throat absently, thinking it over. Maybe it could help him to have the other patient in on it. Castiel may have some insider information that would turn the investigation around. And he was crazy. So if it came down to it, they wouldn't believe anything he said. Just like Lucifer's rants as they dragged Dean out of the room.

Finally he nodded, getting up. He looked around the room, as if someone could be watching them. For all he knew, they were. It wasn't such a crazy thought. He sat beside Castiel on the other bed, leaning in to speak quietly.

"I'm gonna trust you with this, okay?"

Castiel nodded, looking perplexed. If they weren't sitting in the middle of a mental hospital, Dean would be hard- pressed to think the other was anything but normal.

"My real name's Dean Winchester. I'm a detective. I'm here undercover, working a case my dad was working on. We're trying to get this place shut down, because we're pretty sure they're doing all sorts of inhumane treatment on patients here. Especially the people in this ward. You know anything about that?"

Castiel stared at him again with those huge blue eyes. Dean resisted the urge to look away. If the guy wanted to judge something from him, he wasn't going to back down. It was important.

He opened up his mouth to speak finally, hesitantly. "Anna."

Dean arched a brow. "Anna? Like a patient named Anna? Something happen to her?"

Castiel nodded. "I don't know too much. Gabriel knows it all. He can tell you."

"Okay. Is there any way I can meet him? It's kind of important to get as much together in a week as we can. So anything you've got will help a lot too."

"I don't," he began, looking toward the door, "I mean, nothing has happened to me personally. I'm confident that Dr. Ziraphale has never intentionally hurt someone his entire life."

"Yeah, I know. Doc's not in on this one, I can tell. There's definitely something up with that creep Adler, though. And Uri's already informed me quite politely on his policy with patients." He prodded at the bruise on his jaw, the first of a few injuries that day.

Castiel stared at the bruise for a moment, before meeting Dean's eyes once again. "I'll help you in any way I can, but you have to promise me that you'll get us out of here."

Dean nodded, dead serious. "Of course. No one's getting left behind, Cas, not even that dick Lucifer."

Even if they were still mental patients, there was no way Dean could leave them to the mercy of some crackpot doctors who wanted to poke around in their brains. It was 1947 for god's sake-- they were more civilized that ice picking some guy's brain because he thought differently. Even if they wound up in other institutions, at least they'd be safe. As far as Dean was concerned, he couldn't even see why Castiel was here in the first place. He just seemed like a guy with a weird nickname who knew too much about angels.

Castiel was staring at him again, which Dean thought honestly shouldn't surprise him anymore. This time, it seemed like there was something new in his eyes with every look.

"Something wrong?"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a knock at the door, followed by keys jingling.

"Castiel? Michael? It's time for dinner." Chuck opened the door, poking his head in to look at them. "Ready?"

Dean looked from the orderly back to Castiel, tilting his head in a way that signaled he wanted him to continue. The dark haired patient only shook his head with a tiny smile, getting up.

"It's nothing. We should go, so I can show you around before we eat."

With a shrug, he followed. He guessed if it was important, he'd ask about it when they were alone again. Chuck smiled, moving aside to let them out. Castiel led the way down the hall, Chuck keeping the pair in front of him and Dean looking around as he walked. Since they hadn't set Uri on him after the fight with Lucifer, Dean thought it was possible they didn't consider him a threat. Chuck was a nice guy, but he didn't look like he'd be any good to anyone in a fight. If Dean wanted, he could immobilize him in seconds. It was a relief to get the low- maintenance guard. It would make things easier when he needed to get some work done.

Each ward had its own dining room, it seemed, or at least the Angel Ward had a separate one. Dean was reminded once more that this ward was kept completely away from the downstairs wards. Out of sight, out of mind. The dining room was set up like any cafeteria, long benches in rows taking up most of the room. The kitchenette was off to the side, where there was already a small line waiting to get their food. Chuck ushered them inside, then took a place beside Uri, who was already guarding the door.

Castiel grabbed Dean by the sleeve, leading him to the back of the line. There were only a few people in it; the Angel Ward only housed eight patients, himself now included. So the line didn't take long to move. Everyone grabbed a tray as they passed by the stack, and Castiel handed Dean one quietly. The workers handed them each a dish of food, a glass of water, and a spoon. Dean supposed it was a good thing they thought not to give the crazy people sharp utensils, even if it was hard to cut meat with a spoon.

After they had their food, Castiel guided them to the far end of a bench, away from the other patients. Dean arched a brow curiously.

"Not gonna play with the rest of the class?"

"I don't really associate well with others…" he looked almost sheepish, poking at mashed potatoes with his spoon.

"Oh," Dean nibbled thoughtfully on a green bean. "Are they all as quiet as you, or are they as crazy as Luci?"

"Dean," he frowned, "I wouldn't go throwing the word crazy around in a place like this. It's sure to offend someone."

"Okay, point."

"But… I suppose it varies. Lucifer is by far the worst, but that's to be expected. Anna's definitely the most subdued, for obvious reasons."

Dean didn't notice how his tone darkened at that particular point. He followed Castiel's line of sight to see a thin red headed girl sitting at one of the other benches. She looked smaller than she actually was, swallowed in a large cardigan wrapped over her blue dress. She stared at her plate, poking vegetables around absently. He frowned. "Son of a bitch."

Castiel nodded solemnly before continuing his speech. "Crowley is quiet for the most part, although he's been known to start trouble every now and then. Gabriel and Balthazar are the main ones to watch out for. They're not malicious like Lucifer, but they definitely start the majority of the situations around here, and everyone knows it." His tone held a touch of fondness, despite the warning.

Castiel looked at each patient as he spoke about them, and Dean made a point to start memorizing names. Michael would know these people, and after two people calling him out, he needed to make as good a case as he could. In this case, Crowley was a dark haired man with a know- it- all look about him. He smirked, having an animated discussion with a short brunette man. Both of them had brown eyes, although the shorter's looked nearly gold. Beside the brunette was a tall blond, laughing at the other two with a smirk of his own. Gabriel and Balthazar, respectively.

"You'll be able to talk to them during common time tomorrow," Castiel continued. "If you get up now, Uri will get suspicious."

"Yeah, last thing I need is Chuckles on my case again," Dean grinned. "I'm just glad Chuck's a lot more lax."

His dark haired companion nodded. "There are a few perks to being unassuming."

Dean chuckled at that. "Suppose you're right, Cas."


	3. I'm going crazy and I've been awake for days…

Dean woke up to see Castiel perched on the edge of his own bed. Curious, he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"What's up?"

Surprised, the other patient turned to face him, tilting his head in the way Dean was actually starting to get used to. "Nothing."

"Y'sure? You're just all..." he shrugged, unable to explain himself. It was too early for words. "You look freaked."

"I am fine."

Squirming around, Dean found himself a new comfortable spot, relaxing back against the pillow. "How come you're not sleeping? 'S early."

Castiel gave him another one of his secretive half smiles. "Angels don't require sleep, Dean."

He frowned. "You... you can't really go without sleep, Cas. You'll pass out eventually."

The dark haired man hummed thoughtfully, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders. "There is still some trouble with that. Sometimes I will require it, but for the most part, it's unnecessary."

"Whatever, man." Dean rolled his eyes, once again reminded that for however normal Castiel seemed, he was still in the institution for a reason. "It's not healthy."

"Just go back to sleep, Dean."

"Way ahead of you, Cas."

The second time Dean woke up, it was to a bell ringing out in the hall. It was like a school bell, and it was annoying as hell. Dean groaned, folding the pillow around his head, trying to block the sound out. Castiel chuckled quietly.

"Time to wake up."

Dean grumbled out something that the other supposed might be a sentence, if the detective hadn't been still half asleep.

"We have to get up. If you're not up and dressed when they come for you, you'll miss breakfast."

He sat up immediately, running a hand through his hair groggily. "Missing breakfast is a crime."

Castiel tilted his head at the detective once more. He was curled on the bed, the same as Dean had seen him the first time he woke. He was already dressed, a simple white dress shirt and dark slacks. His shoes sat by the door, waiting for him to slip into them on his way out.

Dean arched back in a stretch, relishing the sound of joints popping. He slid out from the blankets, stumbling over to the wardrobe to pull out the day's clothing. "So if you don't sleep a lot, what do you do all night?"

"I read mostly," Castiel replied, glancing away as Dean shrugged out of his undershirt to slip on a clean one. "I... I've never had someone room with me before, so I must admit I spent a lot of last night getting used to having another presence in the room."

Dean paused, squirming into his pants. "What's that mean, exactly? Was I making you freak out or something?"

"Not as such..." he frowned, as if he was having trouble expressing himself. "It was just... different."

The detective shrugged. "Okay. Just tell me if I do something wrong then. I'd hate for you to wind up knocking me one like Luci did."

The frown deepened. "I'd never."

Dean laughed, doing up the fastening on his pants. "I've heard that one before. Apparently I'm quite the trying person to room with, if you ask my brother."

There was a knock on the door, before keys jingled in the lock. "Breakfast time, guys."

Castiel got up, slipping into his shoes as Chuck opened the door. Dean hurried to put his on, not wanting to get left behind when food was involved.

After breakfast, the patients were led into the common room. Most of the patients, used to the daily routine, went to their places around the room. The tables were set up the same as yesterday, when Dean had passed by on his way to Dr. Ziraphale's session. Immediately, a few of the patients sat around the table, the short brunette grabbing the deck of worn cards to shuffle. Crowley and the blond patient sat on the other ends of the square table, while the redhead-- Anna, sat quietly beside the brunette. He started dealing the cards, although only for the three men. Anna didn't seem concerned that she wasn't included in the game, however, and just smiled softly as the brunette finished shuffling, getting up to fetch the woman some paper and a dull piece of charcoal.

Castiel skirted along the game table, leading Dean towards the back of the room. Far enough away from the other patients, yet not close enough to the orderlies that they'd be overheard. Chuck and Uri sat along the far wall, the twitchy orderly working on a crossword puzzle as the bigger man read through his magazine. Lucifer was, unsurprisingly, absent. Dean didn't really think he'd play well with others, and after what happened last night, he was probably going to be in time- out for awhile.

The dark haired patient sat quietly in one of the chairs. Dean took a seat beside him, though far less carefully. He watched the others play, while Anna looked quite intent on her sketching.

"Not the most social angel, are you?"

Castiel blinked. "Not really, no. Sometimes I associate with them, but for the most part, I keep to myself. I find the three of them too much to handle sometimes. And Anna hardly speaks with anyone besides Gabriel anymore. Although at one point, she was wonderful for an insightful conversation."

"Yeah, I need to ask about that," Dean gnawed thoughtfully at his bottom lip, watching the girl curiously. "Would you mind if I went to talk to Gabriel for a bit?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. I can tell Gabriel you wish to speak with him. I don't know how freely he'll talk around the others. He likes to put on an air of good humor and lightheartedness, especially where Anna is concerned."

Dean hummed, studying Anna as she scribbled on the paper, curled over it almost protectively. Gabriel kept his eyes on his cards, though he occasionally shot Anna a smile. The other two didn't seem bothered by the behavior, focusing on their game.

"That'd be best then, if you don't mind." He grinned at his friend, who nodded and got up from his seat.

Castiel made his way to the table as Dean watched, leaning in to speak in a hushed tone with Gabriel. Amber eyes flicked up in his direction, a brow arching curiously as the detective was given the once- over. Then Gabriel nodded with a smirk, throwing down his hand on the table. The other two players groaned at the sight of the shorter man's cards, tossing their own down.

Gabriel followed Castiel back to the table, taking a seat across from Dean.

"So... Cassie says you wanna talk to me?"

"Could say that," Dean shrugged, leaning his elbows on the table as Castiel sat at his side once again. "I was wondering what you could tell me about some of the more... questionable practices of this place?"

Gabriel snorted. "You kidding me? I could write a book about it. In fact, I probably will, if we ever get out of here."

"Well, put it this way," Dean leaned his chin on a hand. "You help me out here, and I've got people on the outside that can make that happen. Fairly quickly, actually."

He seemed to think about this for a few moments, tapping his fingers on the table. His eyes flickered to Anna at the other table, still lost in her art. It was almost imperceptible, but reading people was something Dean had become adept at in his line of work.

"All of you guys," he clarified. "Not just informants, but all the patients would get out of here. Anything you could give us to help shut this place down."

Gabriel still looked slightly torn, narrowing his eyes at the detective. He could practically see the wheels moving in the other's head. Helping him would be a risk, he knew, but hopefully he could convince the shorter man that the rewards would outweigh the risks. Gabriel's testimony would be important, especially if given in conjunction with paper evidence. And according to Castiel, Gabriel was one of the sneaky ones. He figured if anyone could help him get into records rooms, it'd be the sneaky one and the unassuming quiet one.

Finally Gabriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine, I'm in. What's going on?"

Castiel met Dean's eyes, giving a short nod. Gabriel could be trusted with the truth, as far as the blue eyed patient was concerned. Which was an opinion Dean was surprised to find he trusted as well. He leaned closer, licking his lips to wet them in preparation for a long explanation.

"Detectives are scoping this place out," Dean informed him. "Looking for evidence of inhumane treatment. If this works out, the whole institution'll be shut down. You guys can all get out of here and back to your lives. Although, the ones that still need help will be given it. Just in much safer places."

Gabriel smirked, folding his arms on the table. "I knew you weren't Michael."

Dean rolled his eyes. Beside him, Castiel let out a chuckle on a huff of breath.

"See," the shorter man continued, "Mike was a bit of a self- righteous dick sometimes. Although you're kinda like him, so I guess it only makes sense you'd choose him for your cover."

Dean made a mental note to congratulate Sam for his good research work later on.

"Dea- Michael was interested particularly in what happened to Anna. I thought you would be the best to speak with about that." Castiel explained quietly. Dean gave the other a little smirk at the apologetic look he received for the near- slipping of his real name.

"Smart thinking, Cassie," Gabriel nodded, not commenting on the slip. His eyes flickered toward the orderlies, who weren't paying them any mind. As long as the patients were quiet and not making trouble, they were largely ignored. He cast another quick glance at Anna, scribbling away with charcoal- stained fingers. Something flashed in his eyes, just for a moment. Hurt, regret, guilt. Dean wasn't sure, but it was gone again before he had time to analyze it. Gabriel was staring straight at Dean now, all humor wiped from his features.

"Anna goes too, right? If this thing goes down like you say, I can take her out of here?"

Dean nodded. "Of course. Even Luci gets a pass out of here. She'll be able to get whatever help she needs."

Gabriel frowned. "She doesn't need any kind of help. She didn't need it before, and she really doesn't need any more fucking up on their parts."

"So then tell me what happened to her." He could hazard a guess, but he wanted to be sure.

"She was just like the rest of us when she came here. It was a pretty small collection of us then, even smaller than now. There were three of us. Me, her, and Raphael. Cassie came in right after that."

Castiel nodded lightly. Dean tilted his head. "Raphael? Where's he now?"

The brunette toyed with a thread on the hem of his jacket. "Gone."

"Y'mean, gone to another place kinda gone, or..."

"GONE." There was a finality in his tone that Dean didn't question. He didn't have to. Gabriel continued anyway. "Raphael was the first they took away. He didn't have any family, no one to look after him but us. This kind of place, you have to look out for your own, cuz no one else is gonna."

"Do you know what happened to him, exactly?"

"Not really. No one would tell us. Ziraphale gave us some kind of story about a fall down some stairs during transport, but he'd believe what Adler told him. He gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. And why wouldn't he? Adler's the founder of the building that preaches helping us. Why would he have any reason to lie?" The sarcasm dripped very pointedly from his words.

"Anna was livid," Castiel spoke up. "I hadn't known Raphael, I'd only arrived the week he'd been reported dead. I'd been speaking with her since my first day here. She knew that his death hadn't been natural. She was very insistent to Dr. Lilith that something was amiss."

"That was the mistake," Gabriel cut in. "Because while Az is a pushover, Lilith's definitely in on it. It's not really any surprise that all the patients that wind up like Raph and Anna are her patients."

Dean tapped his fingers on the table now, thinking everything over. "So Anna made a fuss, got onto some things she shouldn't have, and they decided to shut her up?"

Gabriel snapped his fingers. "Got it in one. She was dangerous. The perfect mix of fearless and fiercely intelligent. The only reason she was here in the first place was because her parents were worried about the things she said. Said she was hearing voices of angels. She called it Angel Radio." He grinned a bit at this. "Not like the rest of us don't hear the same thing."

Castiel nodded. Dean arched a brow, though he didn't say anything.

"So, what happened, exactly?"

Gabriel leaned closer, voice almost a whisper. "You know about what kinda stuff goes on in these places, right? This isn't your first gig, is it?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not usually in the habit, but I've been very thoroughly briefed. My partner's a hell of a walking encyclopedia."

After a moment, he sighed. "They call it a Transorbital Lobotomy."

"The kind with the ice pick?"

"That's the one."

Dean shuddered despite himself. "Fucking bastards."

"No one's really sure what happened to Raph, but it's safe to assume something worse than what she got. Something without such a small failure rate. Anna though, she came back that night with both her eyes pretty much swollen shut. Nasty stuff. And after that, she just..." He glanced her way again. "She's not the same as she was before. Hell, she's barely there at all any more. She won't talk, barely makes any noise. She won't answer to anything but Anna, even though she insisted on being called by her real name before."

"Anna her angel name?"

"No, her vessel's name," Castiel replied. "It's as if she's trying to deny her angelic self, but even though she's technically 'cured', they can't let her leave. She refuses to leave Gabriel's side."

"Her parents don't want her to come home after all this?"

Gabriel scowled. "They said she wasn't even their daughter anymore after what happened. This whole thing is their fault to begin with."

"So she's here for good, pretty much..." Dean looked at the redhead, who was inspecting her drawing critically.

"Unless you're telling the truth, and can get us out of here," Gabriel pointed out. "So whatever help you need, you've got me to call on. But so help me, if you go back on your word, I'll make your life a living hell. We clear?"

He nodded. "Like I said, I'm with you guys on this. I wouldn't be here otherwise. I almost got strangled by Luci last night because of it."

"Lucifer?" Gabriel arched a brow. "You got into it with him?"

"Yeah, apparently he wasn't too hot with me pretending to be Michael."

"Makes sense. They used to have a thing, so he'd take it pretty personal."

"A thing?" Dean blinked a few times, staring at him. "Like, a THING thing?"

Gabriel smirked. "Is there any other kind?"

"That sounds like the set- up to a really bad joke. The Devil and an archangel have a fling... Shouldn't that be a whole new bucket of sin?"

Both supposed angels stared at him.

"Or not..."

"The human race has spent countless centuries misunderstanding God's word," Castiel said quietly. "Or to be more precise, using it to fit their own prejudices. The reality is far less judgemental."

"Well... that's good to know, I guess," Dean chuckled a bit before getting back down to business. "So what about the other two? Crowley and what's- his- name? They got any stories for the pot?"

"Not really. Balth is here because his sister Rachel turned him in, but she's some sort of important socialite, so he's pretty safe for now. Crowley's got an in with Ziraphale, so it'd be hard to get to him without the good doctor getting word of it. And everyone else is long gone."

His last statement bothered Dean more than he wanted to admit.

"So, is there some way we can get some hard evidence on this stuff?" he asked. "The stories are important, and anyone can see something's not right with Anna. But paper evidence will seal the case without a doubt."

Gabriel chewed on his lip. "The records room, maybe, but only Adler has the key. Not even the doctors are allowed in without a chaperone."

"Can we find a way to sneak in? If you can point me in the direction, I'll do it. No sense in you guys sticking your necks out any more than you have to."

The shorter man laughed. "Selfless. How cute."

Dean glared at him.

"I'll see what I can dig up," he leaned back, tipping his chair onto the back legs and folding his arms behind his head.

The three paused their conversation as Chuck got up from his chair. He started making his way toward them, and Dean put on a grin.

"So, like I was saying, the important thing to know is that after a seventeen, you never hit. Always hold. You'll win more than you lose."

Gabriel hummed in thought. Castiel just blinked.

"Gabe," Chuck sighed, leaning against the table's edge. "We've been over this. All legs on the ground."

"Yessir!" Gabriel beamed up at the orderly, letting his chair fall back to the ground.

Chuck shook his head, even if there was a smile on his face. "Castiel, it's time for you to meet Dr. Ziraphale."

Castiel stood. "Of course."

Chuck stepped back to make room, and Castiel moved to follow, his arm brushing Dean's shoulder in the process. Dean didn't think anything of it, merely watching his friend follow Chuck out of the common room. Gabriel, however, arched a brow.

Gabriel watched the quiet man leave, slouching in his chair. "So, did Cassie give you the exposition?"

"Hm?" Dean blinked. "Y'mean about all you guys? Sorta."

"Surprising no one," the brunette grins, "For all that he's been around, he doesn't interact much. I, however, know everything about everyone."

"Really?" Dean drawled, leaning his chin on a fist.

Gabriel nodded. "Of course. What else would I do for entertainment around here? Like, take Crowley for example," he waved his hand in the direction of the dark haired man at the cards table, who was currently fanning out a hand of worn cards dramatically, smirk ever- present. "Crowley's a fallen angel of sorts. A demon. No one knows a lot about him, least of all himself. Or if he does, he's one hell of an actor. Which he is. Anyway, the thing you gotta know about Crowley is that he's a salesman. He makes deals. So if you need something here, you gotta ask him. If he can't come by it, you can't get it here."

"How's he do that?" Dean frowned, watching the demon.

"Magic," he snickered. At the detective's dubious look, he clarified. "Magic in the form of a very secretive relationship with one of our beloved doctors."

Dean arched a brow. "Really?"

"Yup! See, Crowley got here right after Cassie did. And with only four of us at the time, it wasn't hard to figure out something was going on. They like to pretend they're not completely obvious, though, so don't let anything slip. Also another thing we don't let get out around the staff. You'd have to be some kinda jackass to wanna split them up."

"Hm."

"So then next is Balthazar." He nodded in the direction of the blond, who was now grabbing Crowley's wrist and pulling out a hidden ace. "He's the newest addition, before you. He's a real smart ass, but he's loyal, and always good when you wanna go in on a prank. And he's charming. So that comes in handy when it's time to get out of the trouble he'll inevitably get you in. ALMOST as charming as me." He waggled his eyebrows, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"So that's it then. I already know about Anna, and I know Luci's a grade- A dick. And Cas is Cas."

Gabriel made a face, like he was about to broach a difficult subject. "Yeah, about you and Cassie..."

Dean blinked, turning back to face him. "What?"

"What's going on with you two? He hasn't really talked to anyone here since Anna. At least not without pretty much a written invitation. Why's he so chummy with you all of a sudden? You've been here all of a day."

"I dunno, man, he seems like a nice enough guy. Maybe he just felt bad cuz I almost got done in last night."

The brunette nodded, but didn't look anywhere near convinced. "Fair enough. You oughta be careful with him, though."

"What do you mean?" Dean frowned. "Something up with him?"

"Well, see..." he leaned back in his chair again, eyes on the empty door. "Cassie's always been a weird one, and that's saying something for a house full of crazies. This place is no stranger to people having multiple voices in the cranium clamoring for attention... Hell, I'm the first to admit I'm not just an archangel, but Cassie... he's got something strange brewing behind those pretty baby blues of his."

"I'm... not sure I follow you."

Gabriel sighed, as if he was dealing with the special class. "Look, kiddo. Castiel's the sweetest angel you'll ever meet. What worries me the most about him is that I'm not so sure him and Jimmy are the only things sharing real estate in there."

"So you think there's something else? Like, another personality or whatever?" Dean didn't consider himself a psychological expert, far from it. Luckily Sam had gone over the symptoms of schizophrenia with him in great detail. Multiple personalities were just one of them.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. And it's not something so simple as another angel, or even a pagan god combo like yours truly. It's something dark. And it worries even me. Worst part is, I don't think he's even aware of it."

Dean frowned. "He doesn't know? I thought you guys were all aware of your conditions? That's kinda one of the odder points of the whole case."

Gabriel tilted the chair back idly. "Long story short, for an angel to take a vessel, it's consensual. We have to get permission. Even Crowley, who's technically a demon. He's kind of a fallen angel loophole, but he still needed the consent. So yeah, everyone here knows exactly what's going on, even if we don't talk about it. This thing with Cassie is different. It doesn't need his consent, or even his knowledge, cuz it's no freaking angel. Far from it."

"What is it?"

"We dunno yet," he shrugged. "Truth is, it's part of the reason no one makes any real effort to include Rudolph in the reindeer games, if you catch my drift. You're sitting in a room full of angels, archangel included, and we don't know what this thing is. But it's bad. It freaks us out."

"So he's dangerous? Has he ever done anything to anyone?"

Gabriel looked more and more awkward with the conversation as it progressed. "Not really. We're not saying anything about it though. No one knows except the other patients. It's just a sense angels get. The doctors don't know. We don't want to give them any reason to drag Cassie off to have a look- see at his brain."

Dean nodded, grateful for that at least. He hadn't known the dark haired angel for more than a few sparse hours between sleeping and sessions, but he found he didn't want anything to happen to the guy. Gabriel was right; Cas was the nicest one he'd met here, and he didn't deserve someone poking around in his thoughts. Hell, none of them did, but especially Cas.

"I'm not saying you gotta avoid him," Gabriel continued, studying Dean's expression. "Just y'know... be careful. We're not sure what he's capable of in the long run."

"Right." Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. There was a chance that Gabriel didn't know what he was talking about, and that there was nothing more wrong with Castiel than with any of the rest of them... but the archangel didn't have any reason to lie to him, and he seemed the most knowledgeable in the ward as far as the patients went.

"Anyway," Gabriel let his chair fall back on four legs, sliding out of it with a grin. "I've got a game to go finish, so unless you need anything else, you're welcome to join in. So long as you don't mind me mopping the floor with you."

Dean snorted. "You're on, Shortie."

The brunette rolled his eyes, leading Dean over to the table. "Oh, short jokes, never heard those before."

Dean grabbed a nearby chair, slotting in between Gabriel and Balthazar at the table. He knew better than to separate him from Anna, although he offered the girl a smile as she looked up, staring at him with wide sad eyes.

"Ready to go again, boys?" Gabriel was all grins and good humor now. "Hope you're ready to lose! I've got the prettiest angel on my side, and I'm not talking about Saint Michael here!"


	4. I'm doing this for you, because it's easier to lose…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art by [maxwell-kiddo](http://maxwell-kiddo.devianart.com/)

Dean didn't get to see Castiel again until close to dinner time. After Castiel's session was his own, and the dark haired man had opted to go back to his room instead of the common room. Dean managed to make his way through a session with Dr. Ziraphale without completely blowing his cover. It was easier to hide it from the doctor than the other patients. Every time Dean didn't know how Michael would answer a question, he just growled in his throat and fixed the doctor with his best glare. Az, for his part, wasn't bothered by this in the slightest, so he figured if nothing else, he was keeping up status quo. He hoped he could keep it up for the week.

He was almost done with the session, ready to go back and relax a bit before dinner, when Az pulled another file out of his desk. He kept Dean's paperwork out whenever he was in a session with the detective, making notes and looking at things. Dean looked at the doctor curiously as he opened the new file.

"Michael... I know this won't mean much to you, but it might to your... your vessel. That's what you call them, yes?"

Dean nodded. However curious he was before, it more than doubled. Something Dean would be interested in, rather than Michael? Dr. Ziraphale didn't speak to 'Dean' often, choosing instead to address Michael. He supposed it made sense, seeing as though the others seemed to get upset when you didn't refer to them by whoever was in charge of the body at that point.

Az smiled softly, continuing to flip through the papers. "I'm not sure if you remember, but you've been here before."

Dean frowned in confusion. "What?"

The doctor bit at his bottom lip, looking down at the desk with an almost guilty expression. "I'm... not really supposed to do this, it's against confidentiality and all, but I think you have a right to know."

Completely lost at this point, Dean leaned closer to the desk as Az flipped the folder around for him to read.

"You were here awhile ago, but in a different... vessel."

Dean jaw dropped slightly, staring at the file of John Winchester. Of course, Dean knew his father had worked on this case; it was the reason they'd taken it on, after all. Still, seeing the file, his father's face staring back up at him, it was surprising nonetheless. "He..."

"John Winchester was a detective," Dr. Ziraphale continued. "He came here awhile ago. You were with him. It's strange that you don't remember..."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, to try and explain why his cover hadn't remembered something like that, but Az cut him off.

"It's strange, but we don't have a lot of past experience with this sort of thing. We know that an angel is required to ask permission from the owner of the body it needs to use. The others have explained this to me."

Dean nodded, remembering his conversation earlier today.

"They also told me that an angel's true vessel must be in the same bloodline. So I'd imagine, since Dean's father was your original vessel, when he died, it... most likely knocked you out of this plane for some time. So there's every chance that it might have done something to your memories of the time with John. And then naturally, you'd move on to the oldest son."

The detective frowned, picking up more on the doctor's speech than what was actually being said. The way he talked, and rattled off his theories with a completely straight face, it sounded more and more that Dr. Ziraphale actually believed that his patients were otherworldly creatures. This wasn't a speech for his patient's benefit, this was Az actually trying to put this together in a plausible form.

The doctor was looking at him expectantly, and Dean knew he had to say something. "That's... You're probably right."

He smiled, happy to get confirmation from someone he assumed knew a great deal more about this than he did. Dean swallowed the nervous lump in his throat.

"He was here, right? Do you know what... what happened to him?"

The Wayfaire Institution had been John Winchester's last case. Everyone knew that, especially his children. What they hadn't been informed of, however, were the reasons why he'd never left this place. Dean and Sam, consoled by John's few friends on the force, believed that he'd gone down by being discovered during the case. Dean personally always thought his father would have made his last stand trying to get the patients out, being a hero until the last breath.

Dr. Ziraphale reached out, taking the folder and reading over it. "According to the records, he incited a riot one night. The staff medicated him to keep him from harming himself or other patients or staff, but he reacted badly to the medication and went into shock. They tried their best to revive him, but he didn't make it."

Dean fought to keep his face from showing any emotion. Michael wouldn't be concerned over John, no matter how much it affected Dean. "I see. Thank you."

The doctor gave him a soft, sympathetic look. "I'm truly sorry, my dear boy..."

Shaking his head, Dean took a few calming breaths. Knowing what happened didn't change anything. If anything, it only made the desire to see this place shut down even more fierce. And there were the patients to think about. They had it worse off. Cas and Gabe and Anna and the others... they needed to get out of here as soon as possible. Getting some bullshit story about the staff of this place trying SO HARD to save his father wasn't going to change anything.

He buried the anger as best he could, putting on a calm smile. "I'll let Dean know what happened."

oOoOo

He had Chuck take him back to the room when he was done, since it was almost dinner time anyway. Castiel was sitting on the bed as usual, a book in his lap. He grinned, flopping on his own bed as Chuck locked the door behind him.

"Hey Cas. How's things?"

Castiel didn't look up, although the corner of his mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile. "Things are relatively well."

"Peachy." Dean hummed, leaving it at that. He folded his arms behind his head, settling in to relax a bit before they were called out. Castiel continued reading, and Dean took the opportunity to study the patient. He didn't look anything but normal, quiet and calm. He thought about what Gabriel had told him. Was there any way someone like Castiel could actually be something as dangerous as the others thought? It didn't seem possible.

After a few moments, Castiel felt the other's stare, looking up from his pages. He met Dean's eyes with a questionable head tilt.

"Is something the matter?"

Dean felt his face warm a bit, shock of getting caught catching up to him. "N- No, it's nothing. Just thinking."

"About the case?"

That was an out and Dean was going to take it. "Yeah. Thanks for all your help."

Castiel shrugged. "It's not so much done for your benefit as it is for everyone here, but you're welcome nonetheless."

That tiny smile was back again, and Dean felt a grin tug at his features in response.

"If Gabe can get me into the record room, I'm sure I can bust this thing wide open. When Sammy comes at the end of the week, we'll put the order in to shut down immediately. Depending on what I find, I might be able to take you all with me on the same day."

Castiel was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "And what happens if you don't?"

Dean blinked. "What d'ya mean?"

The blue eyed patient sighed, marking his book and setting it aside to focus his full attention on Dean. "I mean what if you can't find anything. If it were going to be easy, they would have shut this institution down already. They're not just going to leave their papers lying around."

"I know," he insisted, "Getting in there will just be the first step. They wouldn't keep it so under wraps if there wasn't something important in there."

Castiel looked down at his hands, now folded delicately in his lap. "I just... I don't want to get left behind. When your partner comes for you, I'm worried that you'll leave without us."

"Cas..." Dean frowned, sitting up. "I swear to you, that won't happen. No matter what, we're all getting out. No one's getting left behind, remember? I swear it."

"When I had only been here a week... before Raphael's disappearance had caused Anna's treatment... another detective came here, the same as you. He didn't stay long. I never even got a chance to speak to him. He was here one night, and by morning he was gone. I assume he gave up and had someone get him. I just worry... that history will repeat itself."

This gave Dean pause for a moment. Another detective coming here. There was only one detective he could be talking about. He wondered how much Castiel knew about his father. He was obviously in on the other detective's cover, which made Dean trust him even more. Although Castiel seemed to think that the detective ran off and left them there. What had the administration told the patients about THIS missing angel?

He made a note to ask about it later. Right now, his friend seemed distraught, and Dean's first instinct was to ease his worries. Not only because he was an important part of the case, but there was something about seeing the guy so upset that rubbed Dean the wrong way.

"That's not gonna happen, Cas, I'm serious." Dean slid off the bed, leaning over his roommate's bed to stare at him eye to eye. "I don't care what happens from here on out. I'm not gonna leave you here, okay?"

Blue eyes searched him silently for what seemed like forever, and once again, Dean fought the urge to look away. Finally he nodded once.

"Alright. I trust you."

Dean's face broke out into another smile at that, reaching to ruffle the other's already messy hair. "Good."

Castiel knocked his hand away, but there was no anger in it. He ran his fingers through his hair, as if that would fix the mess. By then, Chuck had come to collect them for dinner. Dean hopped over to the door as he rolled his shirt sleeves up, eager to find out what today's meal was. Castiel followed with a shy sort of smile.

 

Dinner was, much to Dean's dismay, the meatloaf Az had warned him about. He sat beside Castiel in the same place they'd been sitting for all their meals, prodding it dubiously with a spoon.

"Is this even food?"

Castiel bit into his own, not seeming to mind the taste. "It is edible, yes."

Dean watched him for a moment, debating whether or not it was safe. He scooped a bit up on his spoon, shoving it into his mouth. Castiel studied him curiously. He kept up a poker face for all of ten seconds before cracking, making a face like he'd just swallowed a bug.

There was a choked noise to his side, and Dean looked over, thinking perhaps Castiel had gotten meatloaf down the wrong pipe. Instead he saw the angel curled in on himself, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

Meatloaf forgotten, Dean stared, eyes wide. A smile made its way to his face, watching the other cough out laugh after laugh.

He would have kept on watching, if he hadn't been interrupted by a shadow looming over him. Castiel managed to get himself under some form of control, blinking up at the newcomer, eyes going wide as well. Dean followed the gaze, turning his head to stare at none other than Lucifer.

"Oh hey, looks like they let you back out to play?" Dean quipped, reaching for his glass to sip at his water.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You've got some nerve, still being here. I would have thought they wouldn't let you stay here, parading around with your lies."

"Funny enough, they tend not to believe the rantings of the crazy person that tried to strangle his roommate."

Castiel put his hand on Dean's arm, trying to stop him, although he spoke to Lucifer. "He's here for a very important reason, Lucifer. It will help us all in the long run, and it won't do any of us any good to keep fighting one another."

"Oh really, Cassie?" Lucifer grinned that mass- murderer grin of his, leaning down to face the smaller man. "You're a funny one to talk about starting fights."

Castiel frowned in confusion. "I don't know what you're referring to. I've never started any kind of trouble..."

"No, you wouldn't know, would you? It's awful cute how you try to play so innocent all the time."

"I don't--"

"Stop it," Dean growled, eyes narrowing.

Lucifer scoffed, completely ignoring the detective's presence. He even went so far as to turn his back on Dean, situating himself in the small space between his and Castiel's chairs. Lucifer's fight wasn't with Dean any more. He'd taken it on himself to pick on the quietest angel.

"Just because the others won't say anything, doesn't mean you're suddenly not responsible for the things inside your head, Castiel."

Castiel leaned back, uncomfortable and frowning up at the taller man. "I don't... There's nothing in my head except myself. And Jimmy, of course, but that's no different than anyone else here."

"Is it really so simple for you?" Lucifer grinned. He was obviously having fun riling the other up. "Must be nice to be able to be in so much denial. Convinced of your own innocence, when everyone else knows what kind of darkness is swirling around in there." He chuckled. "And that means something, coming from me."

"Lucifer, I swear, you'd better shut your trap, or so help me..." Dean stood abruptly, knocking his chair back. He grabbed the devil's shoulder, forcing him to turn and face him instead of Castiel.

Lucifer growled, his humor lost in an instant. "What's wrong? Don't like anyone else talking to your little angel? Do you even know what he's capable of?"

Castiel leaned back in his chair, worried. By now, the other patients had started to stare. Balthazar looked ready to intervene, if it weren’t for Crowley’s hand on his arm. Gabriel's eyes were wide, worried that Lucifer would get Castiel in trouble. Dean met eyes with him for a second before flickering back up to Lucifer's.

"I said shut it," he snapped. "Cas hasn't done anything wrong, so just back the fuck off before you wind up in time out again."

Lucifer shrugged Dean's arm off his shoulder. "Why are you so concerned? You're not one of us, you shouldn't even be here!"

"Back off, you two," Uri's deep voice cut through the cafeteria, as he moved to separate them. Chuck wasn't far behind.

The blond gave the orderly a smirk. "Of course. Just having a little talk with Cassie here."

"Castiel," Chuck set a hand on the blue eyed angel's shoulder. "You alright? Is he bothering you?"

Castiel looked beyond confused. "I-"

"Yeah, he is," Dean answered instead. "Maybe it was too early to let him associate with the non- dangerous angels."

"That's enough," Uri snapped, fixing Dean with an intense glare. "If the two of you can't control yourselves, we'll do it for you."

"I don't think it's us you need to control, as much as Cast--"

Lucifer didn't get to finish his sentence, as Dean's fist slammed into his jaw. He fell back again, nearly landing on Castiel, if not for Chuck reaching out to steady him. Uri was on Dean in a flash, pinning him bodily to the floor. Dean struggled uselessly, shouting at Uri to let him go so he could make Lucifer shut up. The devil in question didn't move, only watched the orderly restrain the detective with a dark smirk.

Uri grabbed a syringe from his jacket pocket, pushing it into Dean's shoulder. He hissed out a curse, wincing as he tried to keep up his fight. It failed fast, the sedative taking effect. His whole body felt like it was underwater, and he slumped against the floor. His eyes, suddenly too heavy to keep open, focused on Castiel, locking with worried blue for a moment before they slipped shut.


	5. They're in the wrong place trying to make it right…

Dean woke from a heavy dreamless sleep to the quiet mutterings of Dr. Ziraphale. He was laying on something soft, softer than his sad excuse for a bed in his room with Castiel. He cracked an eye open to find himself in the doctor's office, resting on a couch. Az was speaking to someone in hushed tones. He sounded a bit upset.

The detective stretched, trying to work the tenseness out of his shoulders. He sat up, scrubbing his face with a hand. "The hell..."

Az turned to study him, moving from his desk to the couch. "Are you alright? How do you feel?"

"Like gravity made me its' bitch," he grumbled, sitting up a bit.

"Sedatives'll do that to you," Gabriel snarked, leaning over Dr. Ziraphale's shoulder. "You gonna make it, kiddo?"

"I've had worse," he waved a hand in response, rolling his shoulders. "What am I doing here? I figured after what happened, I'd be stuck in time out with Luci or something."

"Ah, well... I may have intervened on your behalf," the doctor chewed nervously at his lip. "Gabriel helped. Seeing as though it was Lucifer that did the majority of the instigating, including bullying one of our best patients, I thought it was within your rights to help. It's not over, though. You've been asked to meet with Dr. Adler when you woke up."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh good. Been wanting to talk to him again. How's Cas?"

Gabriel grinned. "He's fine. A little shaken up, but nothing serious. He's worried about you."

"Yeah well..." he shrugged. "Couldn't let Luci keep running his mouth about the guy."

He met Gabriel's eyes, arching a brow just enough to convey an unspoken question. He needed to know nothing had gotten out about Castiel that could get him unwanted attention. The brunette must have caught on, because his grin softened to a smile, shaking his head. Cas would be fine.

"I'd like to know what this was all about," Dr. Ziraphale spoke up, putting on his most stern face. It wasn't really effective.

"Luci's got it out for Michael, here. You know how sibling rivalries are," Gabriel shrugged, as if this were common knowledge. "So after the whole bad idea of putting them in the same room and expecting them to play nice, Luci decided to go for the next best thing to Michael himself, and that would be Cassie."

Az tilted his head in confusion. "Castiel? Why?"

"Because Michael's always been close with Cassie. It's kinda like an angel mentor thing. He's the youngest, after all, and Michael's the oldest."

"Oh. So Lucifer thought he could insult Michael by upsetting his charge?"

"Yeah, that's it exactly," Dean spoke up, figuring he should at least help protect his own cover.

Dr. Ziraphale tapped his chin in thought. He had that look in his eyes, that Dean had come to associate with the doctor finding any tidbit he could manage about the angels. It was like he was studying them instead of trying to convince them that they were delusional. As if he really believed they were angels, and he wanted to be the first to know how their culture worked. It was weird to Dean, but he didn't say anything. At least Az was patient with them. It was helpful. Especially in situations like these.

"Castiel was very upset by the time I got there. What was Lucifer saying to him?"

The two looked at each other for a moment, each trying to come up with something plausible that wouldn't reveal Castiel's true situation.

"It's Lucifer," Dean said after a small pause, gesturing uselessly. "You know how he works. Trying to play on everyone's insecurities."

"Right," Gabriel nodded, cutting in. "Just some bullshit about not being good enough to associate with Michael. Nothing too serious, but you know how sensitive Castiel can be..."

"I suppose that's true..." Az frowned in thought. "Still, resorting to violence wasn't the correct response, Michael, regardless of your good intentions."

"Yeah, I get that. The thing about that is that having a friendly little chat just wasn't cutting it."

The doctor shook his head. "Well, I'm not the one you really need to explain this to. Dr. Adler is waiting to see you, and I have another patient to see."

Gabriel snorted. "Yeah, sure, Az. Wouldn't want to take away from your quality time with Crowley."

Dean arched a brow. Az sputtered indignantly, his face turning red. "G- Gabriel!"

The brunette cackled, even curling in on himself with laughter. "You get so... flustered every time! I can't help it!"

Dr. Ziraphale frowned in that pouty way of his, crossing his arms and glaring at the smaller man. "It's not funny! What would happen if those rumors of yours were to get out? A doctor having a relationship with a patient is grounds for disaster. I could be transferred, fired, or even completely discredited!"

Gabriel continued laughing, falling to sit on the couch beside Dean. "Just calm down, Az. You know I'd never do something like that. Your dirty little secret's safe with me."

"You're doing it right now!" the doctor huffed, looking worriedly at Dean. "Talking about this in front of anyone is dangerous!"

The angel, who had almost gotten his laughter under control, now coughed out another one. He looped an arm around Dean's shoulders, leaning against him. "Trust me. He's the best person to trust with your secrets. I'm already telling him mine."

Dean stared at him. Was it really safe to talk about all this in front of the staff? Sure, Dr. Ziraphale was the nicest doctor he'd ever met, not to mention completely innocent in this situation, but still. He was being kept in the dark for a reason. Dean wasn't sure if he could trust the doctor yet. Not that he wasn't trustworthy, just that Dean could tell the guy was horrible at hiding anything. If Az knew what Dean was up to, he'd blow the cover in a second when he got nervous.

Dr. Ziraphale was staring at him in return, as if he could figure out whatever secrets Gabriel had just by studying Dean. It was a lot more awkward than the stare of a different set of blue eyes, so he decided to turn the tables.

"So, is it true?"

Eyes widening, the doctor started at him, mouth opening for a moment before shutting once again, flabbergasted. "I don't... Don't ask me that!"

Dean found himself smirking. "I'll take that as a yes."

Gabriel just started laughing uncontrollably again. Dean smirked, until a folder caught him in the side of the head. "Ow!"

Az buried his face in his hands, flushed bright red. "Just... just go. Adler wants to see you, and it won't do you any favors to keep him waiting."

Dean made a show of rubbing his head. The doctor just huffed, muttering something about how it was only paper. The detective got to his feet, followed close behind by Gabriel, who'd managed to get himself under control again. Az set the folders back on his desk, walking them both to the door. Dean blinked.

"You're both coming too?"

"Of course," Gabriel chirped. "Adler's tear you a new one without me there to help. You need someone to help you sweet talk your way out of this one. Besides, I'm the witness, remember?"

"And I'll be chaperoning this trip," Dr. Ziraphale offered a small smile, as if their previous conversation never happened. "The others are busy with Lucifer. Well, Uri is busy. Chuck is getting his arm looked at in the hospital wing."

"Chuck got hurt? What happened?"

"After you got the fast train to Sleepy Town, Luci turned on Cassie again. Chuck held him off while Uri was busy with you, but Luce managed to get a few hits in first."

"Fuck." He hadn't meant for the little guy to get hurt. Although it did prove his theory that the twitchy orderly was in the wrong career.

Dr. Ziraphale led them through the hall and down a small flight of stairs. Dean supposed this was pretty much the only time patients of the Angel Ward were outside of said ward. Az stopped them in front of a door, tapping on the frosted glass window. A voice muttered invitation, and the doctor turned the knob, leading his patients inside.

Dr. Adler was seated at his desk as the three slid into the office. The desk was massive, taking up most of the room. A few cabinets lined the walls, and what little extra space was left was devoted to a few uncomfortable looking wooden chairs. He looked up at the trio, offering a lazy smile.

"Ah. Mr. Winchester, good to see you."

"Michael," Dean replied. Wouldn't do to fail the test so easy.

"Of course. Have a seat. Both of you."

Gabriel shrugged, flopping into one of the chairs. Dean sat in the other. Az stood by the door, looking slightly uncomfortable. Dr. Adler arched a brow at him, as if wondering why he was still there.

"You can go, Dr. Ziraphale. I'll take them from here."

The blond man seemed to want to say something, but thought better of it. He nodded curtly, turning on a heel and exiting the office.

"So, boys, I hear there was some trouble at dinner tonight... How about you tell me about it?"

Dean frowned. Dr. Adler was a fancy degree away from being a used car salesman, from the look of him. His hair, what was left of it, was greying, and his smart suit was immaculately pressed. The worst part was his face. He always had a smirk on his face, like he knew it all and he was just humoring you to even listen to your petty arguments. And his eyes studied everyone constantly, waiting to find some small detail to take advantage of, to turn everything against you. It was disconcerting to say the least, and Dean just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

Gabriel either didn't find the situation as unsettling, or he really didn't care. Knowing him, either was applicable. He slouched back in the chair as much as he could, offering the director a lopsided grin. "Mike and Luce got in another little pissing contest is all. Luci thought it'd be fun to pick on Cassie, and Michael, being our resident hero, wasn't having any of it. Uri was taking his sweet time getting in on the scene, so when Luce was about to get violent on our little blue-eyed angel, Michael beat him to the punch... literally in this case. THAT'S when Uri got his act together, and took out the good guy instead of the villain."

Dr. Adler arched a brow, glancing at Dean. "Is this true?"

Dean didn't miss a beat, tipping his head. "Every word."

He sighed, sitting back in his cushy office chair. He was silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling, as if collecting his thoughts. Then he returned his gaze to the detective. "That's all well and good, but you caused quite the uproar. And regardless of your noble intentions, we can't have this kind of anarchy in our wards. If you let the idea get out that this sort of thing is acceptable, then you've got chaos. Pure chaos. We let one punch slide today, tomorrow it's a full on fight because someone's being a bully. Then next month, it's riot. So tell me, boys, what do you think we need to do about this?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Maybe instead of hassling us, you need to do something about Luce? He's the one causing the majority of the problems around here. Handling the effect instead of the cause just seems kinda useless to me."

Dean thought he had a good point. The doctor seemed to think otherwise. He narrowed his eyes at the smaller man.

"Gabriel. Or are we Loki today, I can never keep track..."

He smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "You can go with Gabriel today."

"Right. How about you work more on keeping your nose out of everyone else's business and less on telling me how to run my hospital, hmm?"

"Maybe I'll think about it, once you start running it right."

The pencil in the doctor's hand snapped. His face twitched, but his demeanor remained calm, for the most part. "Why are you even here? This meeting was for Winch-- Michael. No one asked for your opinion, surprising as that may seem to you."

"Because I'm the one that witnessed all this. Plus, between you and me, Mike's not much of a PR person, if you couldn't already tell. I'm kind of the angel- to- dick translator."

Dean bit his lip against a snicker. He had forgotten about speaking up in favor of watching the two go at it. Gabriel was matching the doctor wit for wit, and it was pissing the other off to high heaven.

Though he figured he should say something, at least. "I understand you've got a chain of command to protect, but I did what I did, and I'm not sorry for it. And if you let Lucifer continue to run around here unchecked, I'm not going to stand by and let him upset the younger angels. It's my job."

He caught Gabriel's smile out of the corner of his eye. If nothing else, it seemed like a Michael thing to say. Besides, it was true. He wasn't going to let Lucifer go around getting the other patients into trouble. If he had to get in trouble instead, then so be it. Especially Castiel, who'd done nothing to anyone. He met Dr. Adler's eyes, refusing to back down.

"I see." The doctor studied him intently, frowning. "I will deal with Lucifer, since the two of you have SO graciously brought the matter to my attention."

Dean doubted it, but let the man continue.

"As for you, Michael. You're to be confined to your room for the next three days. The only time you'll be let out if for your sessions with Dr. Ziraphale and for meals. And if I see you so much as LOOK at someone the wrong way, the mealtime privilege will be revoked, and you'll be fed from your room as well. Are we on the same page?"

That wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting. It would make his investigation harder, but he'd still have a day or two to get some results after his punishment was over. He'd get more done if he could get Gabriel and Castiel's help. Maybe it was even time to talk to Az about it. It couldn't hurt to have a friend in higher places.

He nodded. "It seems fair."

"Glad we're in agreement then," he rolled his eyes, as if upset by the other even bothering to speak.

"Hey, wait... Luce didn't get more than a day last time, and he tried to kill Michael!" Gabriel snapped, leaning forward in his chair so he could pound a fist on the perfectly polished desk.

Dr. Adler glared at him. "For starters, that's none of your concern. And secondly, the punishment is more severe this time because Michael should know by now not to react violently to Lucifer's taunts."

"So what, he was just supposed to be allowed to mess with Castiel because Uri sat there and let it happen?!" The brunette was serious now, all trace of humor wiped from his features in a moment. Way to take responsibility for your employees, Zach!"

The doctor was out of his plush chair in a second, snatching Gabriel up by his collar, dragging the shorter man out of his own chair. "Now you listen here!"

Gabriel met him stare for stare. "Got more to say?"

"You will refer to me as Dr. Adler while you're in MY hospital, you hear me?! And you will treat me with respect!"

His face was turning red with his anger, flushing hotly. Gabriel didn't seem phased, staring back coolly. Dean caught sight of the patient's hand moving, out of Dr. Adler's sight. He made a twisting motion, then pointed at the wall. Frowning, Dean looked toward where the other was pointing. There was a small cabinet on the wall, almost a medicine cabinet of sorts. It was slightly ajar, and Dean could just make out the glint of metal. That was where the spare keys were kept. Gabriel was distracting Adler so he could get the keys to the record room. He had to hand it to the guy, he was clever.

He gave one nod, showing he understood, but not enough to draw the director's attention. Gabriel smirked roguishly, pushing away from the heavier man's grip and backing up. "Look man, I've had enough with your shit! It's time to tell all your patients what exactly kind of slime ball is running this operation!"

Before anyone could do anything more than gape, Gabriel was out the door, sprinting down the hall. They could hear him shout, echoing through the corridor. Without a second thought, Adler followed him out the door, making chase with a few choice curses of his own.

Dean didn't waste any time. He slid out of his chair, going to the cabinet and yanking the small door open. All the keys were hanging on hooks in neat rows, each labelled by floor and room. There were multiple copies of each, he assumed that all the orderlies had them at some point. This would work in their favor, because they wouldn't notice some were missing as easily as if they'd taken a key and left a blank hook.

He quickly grabbed all the room keys for the Angel Ward. These might come in handy later. The key to the record room was on the bottom row. This was the only key that didn't have copies. Frowning, he grabbed it from the hook, replacing it with a key from another hook on the empty space. Then he shut the cabinet and hurried back to his chair.

Once he was back in place, he leaned to the side, looking out into the hall. Gabriel was singing now, running circles around Adler and taunting him. Dean let himself laugh.

Uri thundered down the stairs in the next minute, grabbing the patient by the shirt so hard he choked. Gabriel struggled against the hold, kicking his feet as Uri lifted his smaller frame completely off the floor. The orderly wrapped his arms around the angel, trapping the other's arms at his sides.

Restrained as he was, Gabriel could do nothing when Dr. Adler stormed up to him. He grinned all the same, daring. His head snapped up as the director slammed an uppercut against his chin.

"Hey!" Dean was out of his chair in a second, ready to protest and help his friend.

The director turned to him, hissing. "Winchester, if you step one foot out of that office, I swear to you it'll be the last move either of you make."

Dean paused, glaring heatedly. He met Gabriel's eyes, golden ones questioning silently. Dean nodded once, to answer Gabriel's unspoken question.

It must have seemed like defeat to Adler, because he turned his back on Dean. He glared once more at Gabriel before moving to straighten his jacket. "Get these two out of my sight. Both are on lockdown for three days." To Gabriel, he growled. "Since you want to go making a scene, you can share the punishment."

"Gladly!" Gabriel shouted, laughing.

Uri wasted no time taking the usual syringe from his pocket, jabbing the smaller man in the shoulder. A few seconds later, Gabriel slumped in his hold.


	6. It's just you with your memories and your scars…

Castiel looked up from his place, curled up on his bed, as the door swung open. Uri all but tossed Dean inside the room, slamming the door behind him and locking it once more. The dark haired patient darted off the bed, kneeling at the other's side immediately.

"Dean? Are you alright? What happened?"

The detective huffed, sitting up on the floor. He scowled at the door, as if the orderly could feel the fire behind it. "I'm fine, Cas. Me and Gabe got into it with Adler."

Castiel paled instantly. "What?"

The panic in the angel's tone gave Dean pause, turning his head to study him. "I woke up in Az's office after the thing in the cafeteria. Adler wanted to talk to me about the whole thing, and Gabe came along. It kinda led to him running down the hall until Uri got hold of him."

"Is he okay?" A hand clenched in Dean's shirt, holding on tightly. "What would make him do something so dangerous?"

Dean had to grin a bit at that. "Distraction. Hate to say it, but the guy's pretty much a sneak genius."

"What...?"

He shook his head. "I'll fill you in later. Right now, I don't doubt they'll be hovering over the both of us today."

Castiel bit at his lip, blue eyes studying Dean intently, looking for any extra bruise or injury. Uri hadn't been gentle by any means, but he hadn't gotten punched this time. Gabriel had fared much worse. He really owed the guy. Maybe he'd give him his dessert tomorrow or something.

Finally he chuckled, reaching up to ruffle the other's already messy hair. "I'm fine, Cas, stop mother henning me. Nothing we couldn't handle, and it got us a step forward in the investigation."

Castiel frowned a bit, reaching up with one hand to try and uselessly straighten dark locks. The other stayed wrapped in the fabric of the other's shirt. "Dean, this is serious. I was worried about you. The two of you are making too much trouble..."

"It's okay. Nothing happened. If I don't make a little trouble, I can't get to the bottom of this place. It'll be worth it in the end."

"Not if they take you in for experiments!" Castiel hissed. "You're playing with fire. The last person to come here and make trouble didn't make it out!"

His grin dropped to a flat line. "I know, Cas. Believe me, I know better than anyone. You guys are counting on me, though, and I'm gonna do my best. I promised, remember?"

Castiel's grip tightened in Dean's shirt, using the leverage to pull him closer, until the two were face to face. He stared Dean straight in the eyes, low voice even more a rumble in his seriousness. "I'd rather spend the rest of my life here than for something to happen to you. I couldn't forgive myself. So just... be more careful. I already spent the past few hours thinking they were just going to cart you off to have your nerves snapped or something. I was scared out of my mind that you'd come back like Anna, hardly a person any more... and that was if you came back at ALL."

Dean stared at him, lips parted in surprise. "Jesus, Cas, okay. I didn't mean to freak you out so bad. I didn't know... sorry..."

His friend nodded, suddenly looking down and refusing to meet his eyes, when he'd been adamant about doing anything else moments before. Dean was thrown for a loop at the change. Castiel licked his hips, keeping his eyes on the floor. "I just... you have to be safe, alright?"

"Okay," Dean offered a tiny smile, trying to assuage the other. "I'll work on it, okay? They're not gonna get me. I've got a few days left, and this'll be over. And if I don't find anything by then, we're back at square one. I don't wanna leave you guys here, I won't. So we're going to have to work fast, but we'll work safe too, okay? I promise."

Castiel's shoulders relaxed a bit and he nodded again, although the grip in Dean's shirt didn't let up. If anything, it tightened, the patient's knuckles turning bloodless white. Dean looked at the other's hand, hesitating a moment before reaching out with one of his own, prying Castiel's fingers from the fabric. He didn't protest when they entwined with his own fingers instead, just let both of their hands fall to rest on his leg.

"I'm going to help you," the shorter man said after a few moments of silence.

"Cas," Dean started to argue, but the other cut him off.

"You're going to risk your life. You can promise me that you'll be safe, but I know better than that. If the choice comes between getting the information you need and saving yourself, you're going to choose the former. So whether you like it or not, I'm going to be a part of this. You get your information, and I'll watch out for you. Because someone has to, since you won't do it on your own."

Dean chuckled at that. He'd only been around for two days, and Castiel already knew him pretty damned well. He wasn't giving the blue eyed man enough credit.

"Alright, you've got yourself a deal, Cas. Only because this way, I can keep an eye on you too. If I say no, you're just gonna sneak around and get yourself into trouble instead."

Castiel had the good grace to look guilty, as if he'd planned just that. Dean grinned, knowing he was completely right.

"Okay," Castiel said, "We're in agreement then. So what do you have planned?"

"Get some sleep, Cas." Dean said instead, getting to his feet and pulling the other up by their joined hands. "Once Chuck and Uri make their nightly rounds, we're gonna take a trip down to the records room and see what we can come up with. Hopefully Gabe'll be awake by then."

Castiel frowned, like there were too many questions he wanted to ask, and couldn't decide which was more pressing. In fact, there was a good chance this was exactly what was wrong. Dean resisted the urge to ruffle the other's hair again, instead leading the patient to his bed.

"Just trust me, okay?"

The reply came without hesitation, and was completely honest. "I always do, Dean."

oOoOo

Dean woke up to a hand on his shoulder, shaking gently. He blinked an eye open lazily before shock shook off the rest of the cobwebs. He sat up quickly, staring at Castiel, who loomed above him.

"Shit, I wasn't supposed to fall asleep. What time is it?"

"I'm not sure," Castiel whispered. "The final rounds were made ten minutes ago. I thought it'd be best if we waited enough to give them time to get to their own rooms."

"Good call. Thanks, Cas."

The angel smiled, pleased. He was still dressed, as if he'd been sitting up and waiting all night. He might have, if their conversation the other night was to be remembered. Dean went to his shoes, shaking the keys out from their hiding place and slipping them on.

"Hey," he frowned, a thought crossing his mind. "What room is Gabe in? We need to go get him, but I've never seen him come out of his room before."

Castiel tilted his head. "It's just down the hall."

He nodded, sorting through the keys until he found the one for their own door. He went first, looking down either side of the hall before letting Castiel out, closing the door behind them as silently as possible. The dark haired man led him to Gabriel's room, neither making any noise on the tile. Dean flipped through the keys once more, found the one needed, and unlocked the door, ushering Castiel inside.

The room was dark, of course, and the two occupants were formless lumps in their respective beds. The pair stood by the door, unsure how to proceed. Finally, Dean gave up, and hissed out a short "Gabe!"

Castiel cringed, as if he was sure it would be their downfall. One of the beds creaked, and someone sat up, completely obscured by the darkness.

"Mike?"

"Yeah, it's me. Glad to see you're awake."

Gabriel slid out of bed, bare feet padding on the tile as he hurried up to them. "What the hell are you two doing in here?"

"Record room, remember? I got all the keys. I figured you'd be on my case if we left you out."

"Well yeah, but..."

"Just hurry up. We've only got a few hours before wake up call, and we've gotta be in and out by then."

Gabriel nodded, dressing as quickly and as quietly as possible. A minute or two later, the trio were out in the hall, sneaking along the corridor toward the stairs. The record room was on the first floor, beside the administration offices. Everyone was off- duty by now, and it gave the place an eerie, empty feeling. Dean was in the lead, with Castiel close behind. Gabriel brought up the rear, each of them careful in case someone was out strolling around. The office wasn't hard to find, and Dean shifted through his keys to find the right one.

Castiel jerked up suddenly, looking down to the end of the hall. Someone was coming, a few pairs of quiet footsteps and a hushed conversation came from the bend in the corridor. Thinking quickly, he grabbed Dean and Gabriel each by the shoulder, and yanked them behind the nearest form of cover. This turned out to be a laundry cart. Not expecting the sudden movement, the other two were thrown off balance, falling in a heap atop the quiet patient. They managed to keep quiet, however, just in time for two sets of legs to pass by their hiding spot.

"I'm telling you, Becky, you've got too much time on your hands..." Chuck.

"You always say that," The other voice replied, female. Dean recognized it as the secretary that checked him in when he first arrived. "It's not like I have a lot to do around here. It keeps me occupied."

"Writing love stories about patients though? It's kinda creepy."

Gabriel arched a brow. Dean shrugged. Castiel, too busy being crushed by two grown adults, focused mainly on breathing.

The pair continued down the hall, their conversation growing quieter, turning the next corner and leaving them alone in the corridor once again.

"What was that about?" Gabriel whispered.

"No clue."

Castiel wheezed. Only then did the two remember where the dark haired man was, quickly rolling off to let the other up.

"Sorry Cas..." Dean bit his lip, giving the other an apologetic wince.

"I wanna know who she's writing about..." Gabriel continued, ignoring the pair almost entirely.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Gabe. Focus."

"Wonder if it's one of us."

"Gabe."

"I'll bet it's you two. You're so freaking obvious--"

"Gabriel!" Castiel hissed, his cheeks flushing red. The shorter man finally snapped to attention, giving the pair a wide grin.

"Right," Dean shook his head, getting to his feet. He held out a hand, which Castiel took, pulling him up. Gabriel reached out, but Dean had already moved on, shifting through the keys once again.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "It's gotta be you two."

Dean picked the needed key, unlocking the door and all but shoving the other two inside. "Shut up, Gabe."

The record room was small. It was hardly more than an oversized closet. The walls were lined with file cabinets on one side, and shelves on the other. There was a small desk set up along the far wall, mostly empty, save for a large metal box atop it. The trio split up immediately to fan out, each taking a different part of the room. They tried the box first, finding it locked as they expected. The desk was locked as well, and there wasn't a key to either in sight.

"Remember," Dean said, popping open a cabinet in the front as quietly as possible. He cringed when the thing squeaked along its wheels. "Anything suspicious is good. Especially if it deals with experiments, or the patients who went missing."

Castiel nodded, pulling slowly at his own cabinet somewhere in the middle. He started to flip through the contents, frowning in concentration. Gabriel started working on the shelves, which looked like patient records. Besides the Angel Ward, the hospital housed two floors of normal patients, so there was a lot of files that wouldn't get them anywhere. Adler wouldn't try anything with his normal patients. They had families, and people looking after them. The angels were special. At least that's what it seemed like. Dean had never seen any hint of the downstairs patients being mistreated. It was a smart move on his part. It's what let the hospital get such a good reputation.

Dean's fingers moved through the folders in the file, looking for any names he'd recognize, or any treatments that weren't on the level. He imagined the Angel Ward patients would be grouped together. Although if Adler really wanted to hide his dirty deeds, splitting them up would be smarter. It would help by just finding one, at least. They could look around from there.

He decided looking up a name would be a helpful start. And he didn't know Raphael or Anna's real names, so there was only one other choice.

"Hey, Cas... are these sorted by any names or whatever?"

The dark haired man tilted his head, flipping through a few files. "I believe so... I have a lot of names beginning with H here."

"That's what I thought," he sighed. Raking a hand through his hair, he shut the drawer he was working on, moving past his friend to the opposite end of the wall. Pulling open another drawer there, he started searching again.

Gabriel paused, flipping through a folder. "Who're you looking for?"

"One of your missing patients. The last detective to sneak in here."

Castiel stopped, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. Gabriel arched a brow.

"You know about that? You guys partners or something?"

"Something like that," Dean muttered, keeping his tone carefully noncommitant, sifting through files. "Az told me what I already knew. Your last version of Michael never left this place with a pulse."

"He... He died?" Castiel whispered.

"Yeah. He didn't run out or anything. They got to him, to shut him up. The same way they got to Anna."

"Worse," Gabriel put the folder away, picking out a new one. He shuddered despite himself.

Dean hummed his agreement, moving to the next cabinet. They worked in silence for some time after that, the only noise in the room being papers shuffling, cabinets opening and shutting quietly, and the occasional cough from one of them.

Dean searched through the entire cabinet, from T to Z. He couldn't find the file he was looking for. He even re-checked them. Nothing. Frustrated, he turned to the others.

"Find anything yet?"

"Nothing important," Castiel replied. "I seem to have most of the first floor roster."

"I've got a collection of Jack and Shit," Gabriel chirped in, waving his current folder. "Maybe this was a goose chase."

Dean looked at the clock on the wall. Quarter to three. "We've still got some time. Just keep looking. They wouldn't keep this place under wraps if there wasn't something important here."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like information on hundreds of patients? That seem important to you? Ever hear about patient confidentiality?"

Castiel bit at his lip, pausing in his search. "Perhaps he's right. Maybe they think keeping the records on such things would be too dangerous?"

"Gabe," Dean decided to try another tactic. "Do you know Anna's last name?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Milton. What happened to your partner or whatever you were looking up?"

The detective shut the cabinet, moving closer to the files Castiel was looking through. "He's not there..."

"All the more reason to think that they're hiding them somewhere else."

A thought struck him. He snapped his fingers. "Az!"

Both patients stared at him. Castiel tilted his head once again.

"Dr. Ziraphale? What's he got to do with this?"

"He's got the file. He showed it to me at the last session." If the doctor had his father's file, then he had to have gotten it out of here. Which meant that the others would be in here.

"Why would he show you someone else's file?" Gabriel leaned against the shelf, fanning out a few folders.

Dean ducked down, opening the bottom case of the cabinet Cas was working through. "He wanted to prove a point about angels going through a bloodline or something, I'm not really sure."

"Wait," Gabriel frowned. "So, that last detective came here as Michael, and died, then you came..."

"You're related," Castiel finished, looking down at him.

Dean suddenly felt awkward. They were both staring at him. "Yeah. That was my dad."

"Explains a few things," Gabriel mused. "The other Michael was a stubborn jerk too."

He could tell the other was joking; despite the words, the tone he used was fond. It didn't stop him from glaring at the shorter man. "Look, let's just get to work. We've still gotta find something, and Az has one of the files we need. Maybe I can convince him to let me see it in detail tomorrow."

"So does the doctor know what happened to him?"

"Said something about a bad reaction to medication," he replied. "In other words, complete bullshit."

"Obviously," Gabriel snorted, waving a dismissive hand. The folders slipped out of his grip, spilling their contents along the floor. "Well shit."

"Gabe!" Dean hissed, moving to help him pick them up. "If they figure out stuff's been messed around with, we're in trouble!"

"Yeah, yeah, just pick it up. It's no big deal man. You act like we-- OW!"

The others stopped in their tasks to look at him. He was clutching at his hand, staring at it as he frowned in pain. "Something stabbed my hand!"

He tilted his head to the floor, looking for what could have hurt him. He didn't find anything, so he ran his hand carefully under the shelf he'd been picking papers up beside. With a curious noise, his fingers brushed something, picking it up. He held up a key, looking it over.

"Whatcha think this goes to?"

Dean snatched it from his hands, turning it over. He got to his feet, going to the desk. The box was his first stop, pressing the key into the lock. It didn't make it far, refusing to go more than halfway into the lock. With a curse, he moved to the top drawer of the desk. This time the key worked effortlessly.

"Good job, Gabe," the detective grinned, opening the drawer.

There wasn't much inside, however. Definitely not any files they were looking for. The budget ledger was there, however. Castiel reached around Dean, scooping it up. He began to flip through the pages while the other kept looking around. He pushed around a few pens and papers to find an even smaller key at the bottom of the drawer. He picked it up, pushing the drawer shut.

"Third time's a charm?" he shrugged, pushing the key in. This time it worked, and Dean turned the key to unlock the box. "Yes!"

Gabriel, by this point, had gotten up to hover over the desk as well. He yanked the lid open as soon as the lock was undone. The box was full of papers, notes and files, notebooks and scribbled scraps.

"Think we hit the jackpot," the brunette grinned, leaning on the desk's edge.

Dean had to agree. He pulled out the box's contents, shoving the scraps in the folders so as not to lose them. He turned to Castiel. "Bring me some files out of the cabinets. We'll put them in here so it doesn't look empty if they start to wonder."

He nodded, grabbing a handful of files and putting them in place of the stolen ones. Dean gathered everything up, and Gabriel shut and locked the box back up. The key went back into the desk, which was also locked once more. Then Gabriel slid the desk key back under the shelf. He finished cleaning up the papers on the floor, shoving them back on the shelf in some kind of order.

Dean looked everything over, making sure nothing looked suspicious or out of place. Satisfied, he nodded, files under his arm as he motioned for the others to leave. Gabriel went first, checking to see if the hall was clear. Castiel went next, the ledger clutched to his chest. Dean took one final look at the room before heading out, locking it behind him.

The halls were empty as they hurried back to their rooms. They dropped Gabriel off first, with the promise to speak with him about whatever was found at breakfast tomorrow. They didn't have much time, being restricted from common room time, but so long as Lucifer didn't start any more fights, having a conversation at meal time probably wouldn't be a problem.

Dean and Castiel snuck back to their room, locking themselves in. Dean hid the stolen keys once more. Once he was sure everything was safely in place, he plopped down on Castiel's bed. The blue eyed patient was jolted up a bit from the force of the springs, looking at the other curiously.

He just grinned. "Find anything in the budget?"

Castiel folded his legs under him, opening the ledger across his lap. "Nothing so far. If they're paying anyone off, they're burying it well."

"Hmm." Dean mirrored the other, folding his legs up and starting to shift through the stolen folders. The first one he opened up was the case of Anna Milton.


	7. I'm sorry but I think I'm crazy, not like crazy 'ha- ha' I mean…

Dean didn't remember falling asleep, but he was woken a few hours later with a knock on the door, and Chuck's muffled voice calling them to get ready for breakfast. He must have dropped off while reading Anna's case. He groaned, scrubbing his face with a hand and moving to sit up.

A weight on his side stopped him. Making a curious noise, he looked down to see a mess of dark hair draped on his shoulder. Shit.

"Cas?"

The other man muttered out something unintelligible, only curling up closer to Dean's side. It figured that the night Dean fell asleep on the other's bed would be the day all his non- sleep caused him to finally pass out.

"Cas, wake up. Chuck's gonna be in here soon, we gotta put this stuff up still." If Chuck found them with the stolen files, there would be no explaining it to the twitchy orderly. Not to mention it'd be awkward as hell explaining why they were sleeping in the same bed.

The angel buried his face against Dean's shoulder, a whimper caught in his throat. Under normal circumstances, it would've been weird, if not a little funny. Right now, however, it could get them in serious trouble. He eased out of the bed, slowly dislodging himself from the shorter man's hold. With his source of warmth gone, Castiel scrunched his nose up, blue eyes blinking open.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, um... guess we fell asleep last night. Sorry about taking over your bed and all..." he grinned sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"It is not a problem," Castiel shook his head, sitting up to roll his shoulders. "I don't recall falling asleep."

"Me either," He scooped up the papers, frowning at a few that had been crumpled when one of the pair laid on them. "Suppose it makes sense though. We were running around most of the night. It's okay though. We've got the files now, and I've got all day to read them, seeing as though I'm on lockdown except for food and crazy talks with Az."

"Are you going to ask him for your father's file today?" Blue eyes stared up at him, while fingers tried uselessly to tame the mess of his hair.

"Maybe," Dean shrugged, sliding the files under his mattress to hide. "It depends on if I can do it without looking suspicious."

Chuck knocked on the door again. Castiel straightened out his clothes as best he could, not bothering to change, and slid into his shoes. Chuck wouldn't wait much longer, they had a schedule to keep. Dean followed him out, trying not to look like he'd just gotten caught sleeping with his best friend... which he supposed, on some account, he did.

The pair were led to the cafeteria, which was thankfully Lucifer- free this morning. They lined up to get their food, and sat at their normal end of the table, slightly away from the others. Gabriel soon joined them, dumping his tray on the other side of Dean. He looked half out of it, his normally bright eyes at half mast.

"You look like crap," Dean snorted, shoving a forkful of pancake in his mouth.

"Happens when you stay up all night," the other replied with a lazy smirk. "So what've we got?"

Dean mumbled something around his pancakes. Gabriel arched a brow.

"We didn't exactly get much time to read over anything," Castiel said quietly, pushing around a piece of pancake in syrup. "It seems we fell asleep fairly quickly after we returned to our room."

"Really?" Gabriel snickered, taking a sip of orange juice. "You two are so cute sometimes. Had one night out and got all tuckered out. It's adorable."

"Oh shut it, Gabe." Dean gave him a half- hearted shrug, looking around briefly to make sure no one was paying them any mind. "I'll read over them today in between my session and dinner. We've got til tomorrow to come up with what we need. And I got halfway through Anna's file before I dropped off. I'll get my dad's from Az, and then we've got the three main patients. Cas is still looking through the budget for anything suspicious."

"We're gonna make the deadline, right?" Gabriel frowned around a piece of fruit. "I mean, we've got the stuff to look through, but what if it's not listed? Your partner's gonna come get you and then what?"

He shook his head. "Look, I already promised Cas, I'm not leaving without you guys. I mean it. If we can't find anything, we'll keep looking. I don't care if I gotta give you guys the keys and break in every night, we'll find something."

"Perhaps we should ask Dr. Ziraphale for help?" Castiel suggested. "They may not tell him about the practices, but he may have heard things. Colleagues talk."

"I dunno," Dean frowned. "I'm still undecided about letting him in on this. He doesn't look very good at keeping secrets."

"His own, maybe," Gabriel shrugged, gathering up his tray. "Everyone else's are safe."

With that, he moved back to his seat beside Anna.

oOoOo

Castiel decided not to go to the common room that day. Instead, he stayed in the room with Dean to help look over the files. They had some time before Castiel's session with Az, so they spread the files out over the floor, sitting across from each other. Dean took up his place on Anna's file, while Castiel left off in the ledger to look over Raphael's, figuring the most important information would be there.

Dean was about half through Anna's papers when he noticed Castiel drop the folder he'd been holding. Glancing up, he took in the angel's shaking hands, parted lips and horrified expression. He leaned closer, careful.

"Cas?"

Castiel whipped his head up to look at him, eyes wide.

"You okay?"

"I..." He didn't finish, instead getting up to pace, arms folded across his chest.

Dean picked up the folder, trying to find what had spooked his friend so badly. Raphael's case was listed in detail, from his entrance to the ward, to his exit. The hospital was nothing if not thorough in its notes. Castiel had obviously been near the end, and Dean started reading from that point.

'...Patient found trying to escape. Refused all attempts at subduing. Administration ordered patient to undergo...'

The file was yanked from his hands before he could finish. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing at Castiel.

"Cas! C'mon, this is important!"

Castiel held the folder tight in both hands. He was still shaking, although his expression seemed to have calmed. He quirked a grin. "Not really. Poor little angel had it coming anyway."

That... didn't sound like Castiel at all.

Dean stared at the other, surprise evident on his face. He just laughed, tossing the folder and its contents aside. Papers flew in every direction. Dean moved to collect them, a shout on his lips, but he was stopped when Castiel pushed him back with hands on both his shoulders. Dean met the other's eyes and was rewarded by the shorter man plunking himself right into Dean's lap.

"Cas?"

"Hmm," Castiel tilted his head, wry grin still plastered across his face. "Between you and me, I think you can do better than the littlest angel here. Not much better, but good enough."

Dean frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Castiel shoved at his shoulders, surprise more than force causing Dean to be pushed back. His back hit the floor, and Castiel loomed over him, studying him, before resting his elbows on Dean's chest, propping his chin up. "It's sickeningly adorable, y'know. The way you two go on, and on, and on." He rolled his eyes. "Give a guy a break! If you're not gonna jump him, then at least do us a favor and stop doing whatever it is that's making him squeal like a high schooler with a crush on the football captain. Ugh."

Dean was getting more confused by the second. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was happening, but he didn't want it to be true. This was what Gabriel had warned him about.

"You're not Cas."

He huffed. "Obviously. God, you're even more dense than I'd hoped. No wonder you haven't done anything yet. You probably haven't even caught on yet."

"Caught on to what?"

"Never mind. Okay, let's just focus on one thing at a time."

"And that one thing would be...?"

"The fact that obviously, your little angel friends are in this place for a reason. Because we're all off our rockers!" He leaned closer, almost nose to nose with Dean. "How the hell are you going to justify taking them out of here? We've all lost our minds! We BELONG here, kid!"

"The hell you do," Dean snapped back, scowling. "Okay, so maybe some of you guys do need some help. Especially Luce. But not here. Not where there's a good chance you'll get your brain fried!"

Castiel laughed, sharp and bitter. It didn't sit well with Dean, but then again, nothing from the past few minutes had.

"So you're gonna swoop in and save us all, huh? Be the big hero your daddy couldn't be? Is that it?"

Dean set his jaw. "Cas..."

"Newsflash, genius!" The other tapped Dean's forehead with the heel of a palm. "Cas isn't really running the show right now! He freaked out when he saw what happened to the last angel to fuck around with the establishment around here!"

"So you used the opportunity to push him aside and come out? Why, so you could lecture me?" Dean decided that if this was a fractured part of Castiel's mind, speaking to it directly might help figure out what it would take to get the real Castiel back in mental control. "What are you, anyway, if you're not Castiel?"

"Leviathan," was his only reply. Dean made a note to ask what the hell that was later.

"Never heard of one."

A hand wrapped in the front of his shirt, yanking him up and nearly smashing their faces together. He hissed out a growl, baring his teeth in anger. "Listen to me, you little waste of space! I've worked too hard at chipping away at this meat suit to have you come play hero and ruin everything! It's bad enough I've got to play second fiddle to some socially inept angel, I don't need you screwing up my chances!"

He slammed Dean back down, the back of his head hitting the floor with a dull thud. He pinned him down as Dean blinked hard, trying to clear the stars from his vision.

"Well, forget about it," Dean hissed, his hands reaching to grab at Castiel's wrists. "I promised Cas I'd get everyone out of here, so you're just shit outta luck, buddy."

"You have no IDEA what you're toying with!" He snarled, slamming him back again. "Even the angels fear me! What chance do you think you have, if you dare to cross me?!"

"Funny thing about me," Dean managed a grin, although it was probably more a grimace at this point; head trauma had a tendency to do that. "I don't know when to quit, especially when it's in my best interests."

Castiel chuckled at that, a low, growling sound that soon built up into a full on manic laugh. His head fell back, shoulders shaking with the force of it. That alone managed to unnerve Dean more than his friend's fractured mind at this point.

Abruptly, the patient's head snapped back to attention, so fast Dean was almost afraid something would pop out of place and he'd hurt himself. Castiel leaned back in, inches from Dean's face, a wide grin splitting his features.

"You're an interesting little toy, for a disgusting little mortal meat sack," he mused, almost purring.

Dean blinked, taken off guard by both the words and the sudden change of animosity. "Um… thanks…?"

"I suppose that explains a thing or two," he continued, tapping a long elegant finger along Dean's chest idly.

"About what?" Dean's eyes broke away from Castiel's too- wide blue ones, starting at the fingers dancing over his shirt.

"Explaining things to you outright wouldn't be nearly as much fun as watching the two of you stumble around," He laughed again, increasing the pressure of his fingers until Dean's chest started to hurt.

Dean frowned. "Great, just what I need. A cryptic bastard sing- songing in stupid riddles. You gonna let Cas back now, or what?"

"What's in it for me?" Castiel smirked.

"Absolutely nothing."

He rolled his eyes. "You're no fun."

"You just said I was interesting."

"I lied."

The sound of keys in the door caught them both off guard. Thinking fast, Dean shoved Castiel away, scooping up the papers to hide them behind his back. The dark haired patient landed on his back with a noise, glaring at the detective. Chuck opened the door, poking his head inside.

"Castiel? It's time for your session..." He looked from one to the other. "Is... everything okay in here?"

"Just peachy," Dean drawled, offering the orderly a grin.

"Castiel?"

The patient in question sat up, a hand rubbing at his temple. "I'm fine. I just got... a little dizzy. I must not have eaten enough this morning."

Chuck looked concerned. "Maybe Az has some crackers or something. Whatever he calls those fancy cookies of his."

"Biscuits, I believe." Castiel got to his feet.

"Yeah, those things. C'mon, let's go see him. You okay to walk?"

He nodded. Dean stayed quiet the entire time, staring hard at his friend. He seemed like his normal self again, but he couldn't help but be a little wary after what had just happened. Feeling the stare, Castiel looked back at him, tilting his head in that curious way of his. Seeing that, Dean felt himself relax. That look was all Castiel. Not some creepy thing in his mind. At ease, he gave the other a smile. Castiel's mouth twitched up, a half- smile in response. Dean would get to the bottom of that later, no sense in worrying his friend with it now. He'd talk to Gabriel at dinner, maybe.

Castiel followed Chuck out of the room, a little shaky, but otherwise fine. Once the door was locked again, Dean cleaned up the mess of papers, sorting them back into their rightful folders. Throwing himself on his back on the bed, he started with Raphael's folder. Castiel saw something bad in here, enough to let his inner dick out, so it seemed like the best place to start back up on.

oOoOo

Dean opened his eyes. He hadn't remembered falling asleep. It was dark in the room, much too dark to only be afternoon. Which meant he would have had to miss his session with Dr. Ziraphale. Was that allowed? Did they just let him sleep? Did he miss dinner too? He didn't feel hungry. He sat up, looking around. The other bed was empty. Where was Castiel? Was everyone at dinner right now? It was too dark for him to still be at his session.

He got up, stretching. He felt like he'd been sleeping forever, that was for sure. Keys jangled in the door; they seemed a lot louder in the silence of the empty room. Dean looked up, expecting Chuck, possibly bringing Castiel back, or coming to check on him. It was neither of the two. Instead, Uri pushed the door open, with Dr. Adler close on his heels. Dean's eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious.

"What the fuck do you two want?"

"We know all about your little rebellion, Raphael," Adler sneered, poking Dean in the chest as Uri circled around, grabbing him by the arms. "I won't stand by and let this place fall apart. I've worked too hard for this."

"The hell?" Dean struggled, but couldn't break Uri's hold. He thrashed, trying to get away, trying to get at Adler. "What the hell are you talking about? Have YOU lost your damned mind now too?!"

The other man ignored him, speaking to Uri instead. "Take him to the basement."

oOoOo

Dean couldn't breathe. He tried to move, but something was keeping him submerged, a heavy weight against the back of his head. He managed to open his eyes. Water. He was in a tub of water, and something was forcing him down. He was going to drown. He kicked and struggled, fighting desperately against whatever was holding him down. His lungs burned and his mouth opened in a yell, bubbles drifting to the surface as water replaced what little air he had. He kicked harder, panic setting in as his vision began to get hazy.

Then the pressure was gone. He was lifted up, out of the water. He hacked, choking on the water he'd swallowed and trying to gulp in as much oxygen as he could.

He was being manhandled, too dizzy to protest or fight against it. Hands yanked him up onto a table, hard metal surface cushioned by something. Something wet, not that Dean wasn't already soaking. One set held him down, while the other covered him with a blanket. He was freezing, the cold air in the room blowing over wet skin, but the blanket was sopping wet. He squirmed against the hold, but couldn't break away. The other person continued to wrap him in wet blankets, the fabric so heavy it was nearly impossible to move his limbs. And the blankets kept getting piled on, wrapped tightly around him like he was some sort of mummy. His arms and legs were trapped under the weight, and he shivered. The cold, and the lack of air from before were making him tired, and he couldn't even put up more of a struggle than to toss his head around, muttering out weak curses. The unknown people left him, wrapped in the layers of cold wet blanket. They turned out the lights and left him.

He shivered, his teeth chattering.

oOoOo

Dean woke up again with a panicked shout. He sat up, or tried to, at any rate. He was strapped down to a bed, but not with drenched blankets. Leather restraints at the frame kept his wrists and legs in place, even as he pulled against them. He was dry this time, covered in a dry blanket. He looked around frantically. Another empty room, cold and stark white, tiled walls nearly blinding him as the ceiling lights bounced off of it.

Dr. Adler hovered above him, leaning into his line of sight. Dean hissed out a curse, straining against the bonds.

"I know you've heard what happened to the other two, John. You know what happens to bad little angels who make trouble. Don't worry, this is completely in your best interests. We're here to help you."

"Bullshit!" Dean snarled, yanking against the restraints.

The doctor tsked, shaking his head. "You go snooping where you're not wanted, and you bring too much attention to yourself. Bad things happen when people notice you."

Before Dean could say anything else, there was a sharp pain in his shoulder. He looked down to find another syringe pressed deep into the skin. He tried to shift away, but couldn't move more than a few inches before the restraints stopped him. He was about to yell, to demand Adler tell him what he'd been injected with, when his head swam. He shut his eyes against it, feeling himself warm considerably. His body felt prickly, overheated in an instant. His breath deepened, and he started to feel dizzy once more.

He struggled with the bonds once again, but the fight was leaving him quickly. He felt sick to his stomach, biting at his lip to keep himself from throwing up. The sickness made him not want to move, but he felt panicky, flighty at the same time, as if he had to move. He squirmed, restless and uncomfortable, his eyes heavy.

"The fuck did you do...?" he rasped, pulling his eyes open with considerable effort to stare at the balding doctor.

Adler only smirked in response. Dean felt his arm start to twitch, the muscles spasming in short bursts. It worked its way up, until his whole body was convulsing, thrashing uselessly against the bonds. Shouts left his throat unbidden, both shocked and pained.

The doctor tossed the empty syringe aside, leaving Dean alone as his body racked with seizure.

oOoOo

Dean woke up again, the same cold tiled room, the same bed, the same restraints. He groaned, letting his head slam into the pillow. He wanted this to be over. It was too much. He pulled at the leather cuffs, hoping in vain they would let him free this time. No such luck.

"Just calm down, Anna," Dr. Adler soothed. It had the opposite effect on Dean. "Just a few minutes, that's all it'll take. And you'll feel so much better. No more of this panicking, and asking questions business. Just calm and relaxation."

"No, no no, don't you fucking DARE…!" Dean struggled once again, but Adler ignored him again. He draped a white towel over his patient's face, a hand on his forehead holding him still. He picked up the silver pick, light glinting off the polished metal spike. Slowly, he pressed it at Dean's eyelid, letting it rest there while he picked up the hammer.

"Just stay still now…"

He tapped the hammer and Dean screamed.

  
oOoOo

Dean jumped up, fighting the leather cuffs around his wrists. He cursed, thrashed and yelled, but nothing worked. His voice echoed off the tile walls. He was alone this time, and it gave him the chance to look around. There was a machine beside his bed. He wasn't sure what it did, but it was safe to assume by this point it wasn't good.

Then he wasn't alone any more. Dean swore he was going to punch Adler in his stupid face the next time he saw the man when his wrists were free. The doctor was toying with the machine, flipping switches and turning dials. He took the pair of electrodes, studying them for a moment before sticking them to either side of Dean's head.

Dean shook his head, trying to dislodge the sticky things, but to no avail. Adler hummed, playing with the wires for a moment. Dean scowled. He'd been through Raphael, his father, and Anna. Who was left? He only knew of the three patients, who could this particular cruelty be for?

Adler grinned at him, patting his head in the most annoyingly patronizing manner.

"Try not to tense up, Castiel…"

He flipped the switch.


	8. They're taking me down as the prisoners riot…

Dean jolted awake with a yell, scrambling to get up and only managing to fall right out of the bed. He landed in a heap on the floor, blankets tangled around his legs and papers falling to land beside him. He groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows and looking around. He was back in his and Castiel's room, and although he was alone, there was still light coming from the small window high on the far wall.

Castiel was at his session with Ziraphale. Adler wasn't going to burst into the room with Uri and take him to the basement for torturous experiments.

He cast a glare at the folders beside him, blaming them silently for bad dreams. Still, the evidence was there. Raphael and Anna's cases, with notes and photos of treatments done. He'd find a way to get his father's file from Az, and that would be all the evidence he needed for when Sam came to pick him up the next morning. A radio call to Bobby at the station and they could have the place evacuated by nightfall. At the very least, have Adler behind bars. It was worth a few nightmares in the end.

Despite this, he couldn't quite shake the nervous feeling the dreams had given him. They were outright freaky, but that wasn't what bothered him the most. He'd been called different names in the dreams, of the people who'd been experimented on, but the last one...Adler called him by Castiel's name.

Had they done something to Castiel before? He didn't have a file in the lock box...

Keys slid into the lock on the door, and Dean jumped again, quickly stashing the files between mattress and bed frame once again. Chuck opened the door, even as some illogical part of Dean's mind wondered whether it would be Uri. Castiel slid into the room, looking normal and calm.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Chuck asked. "What's with you guys today?"

Dean made a face. "I fell asleep and managed to fall out of the bed."

Castiel looked at him curiously. Dean only shrugged, getting up and tossing his blanket back on the bed. "My turn, yeah?"

Chuck nodded. Dean gave Castiel a grin and a wave, moving past him to join the smaller orderly at the door.

oOoOo

"So, Michael, what would you like to talk about today?" Dr. Ziraphale asked, sinking into his chair with a smile. "You've been here almost a week now, and I think we've been making some progress already."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean replied with a shrug. "I was uh, actually wanting to ask you about something..."

"Yes?" the blond looked up at him over the rims of his glasses.

There had to be a way to ask without sounding suspicious, Dean thought. "About what you said the other day, about my... my vessel's father, and the last time I was here..."

"Oh," Az seemed surprised, as if it were the last thing he expected Dean to mention. "Yes, I remember. Did you have questions about that?"

"Well, I... I mean, Dean does." Yeah, this didn't sound crazy at all. "I was wondering if I could see that file again, to help... ease his mind a little? He's pretty stubborn, and it hasn't been quiet since you mentioned it."

"I suppose you can see it again," Dr. Ziraphale said hesitantly. "I've already shown it to you once, not like I could get in anymore trouble, eh?" He chuckled quietly, although Dean detected a hint of nervousness about it.

"Well, it's not as if I'd tell anyone about it," he shrugged, trying to look like he wasn't interested in the information so much as some annoying voice whose body he was taking over. "Like they'd listen to me even if I did."

Az hummed, fishing the manilla folder out of his desk. He turned it, setting it in front of Dean. The detective opened it up, skimming over it in more detail than before. He avoided doing that the first time, knowing he might have a hard time controlling himself, but he needed to do this. Not only for evidence in his case, but because he needed to know for himself. And for Sammy.

Cause of death was listed as a reaction to medication. Dean thought back to his dream. Was that just a nice way of saying that they pumped his father full of too many drugs and he seizured to death? There was every possibility, although he couldn't be sure what he saw in his dream wasn't just him thinking over the treatments he'd been forced to study in preparation for the case. He recalled reading something on insulin theory of psychotherapy, where patients were injected with insulin, forced into basically having a sugar coma. And for some reason, this was supposed to help your brain.

It also, funny enough, caused seizures. Surprise, surprise.

None of that was listed in the files, however. Dr. Ziraphale was quiet as Dean read through them, taking in every detail of his father's stay at the hospital. Notes from his sessions, notes on his behavior, anything they thought was important enough to write down. Except there was nothing about any sort of experiment. While the files in the lock box went into the processes at great length, this file was completely innocent. Just an accidental death, so unfortunate.

Dean frowned. "Where's the real file?"

"Pardon?"

He tossed the folder back on the desk, leaning back in his chair to regard the other with a glare. "That's not the real file. That's not what really happened."

Az pushed his glasses up his nose, confused. "Of course that's the real file, dear boy, what would make you think otherwise?"

Dean snapped. In a second he was lunging over the desk, grabbing at the doctor's shirt and yanking him up. His other hand went to cover the smaller man's mouth, trapping his surprised shout. He stared, wide eyed, as Dean growled at him.

"Listen Az. I don't know what they're telling you, but this isn't the real file for John Winchester. He wasn't some accidental casualty, he was fucking murdered by the doctors in here. Whether you're a part of this or not, you have to know something's not right around here. And if you ARE in on it, then you're about to get exactly what you deserve."

Az said something, muffled by Dean's hand. He didn't move, didn't struggle to free himself. Dean studied him, frowning thoughtfully. "If I let you talk, are you gonna call someone on me?"

The blond shook his head, brows knitting with worry. Dean sighed, slowly lowering his hand. Az swallowed hard, staring Dean straight in the eye. His voice came out quiet, but surprisingly steady for how freaked out the guy looked. "Those are the only files I've ever had for him. I swear it."

"Did you get those from the record room?"

To his credit, Ziraphale didn't ask how Dean knew about the record room. He just shook his head. "I don't have that kind of access. I asked Dr. Adler about it, after recalling another Winchester being institutionalized here before. He got them for me."

Of course. This was either a complete fake copy, or it had been doctored, leaving out all the illegal bits. Either way, it was fairly useless. Dean sighed, letting go of the doctor's shirt. Az backed up, staring at him.

"Michael, what's going on?"

"I can't... I can't tell you right now. I just know that the file you've got isn't the right one. Or at least not all of it. I know you don't believe me, you think I'm some crazy nutjob who thinks he's an angel or whatever, but I know that's not all of it. He was murdered."

"How do you know this?" Az prompted again, circling the desk to set a comforting hand on his shoulder. Pretty brave from someone Dean had just been manhandling.

He thought about telling the doctor everything. Az obviously had no idea what was going on. If he could get the blond to help him, he could offer him immunity when the law took over the case. There was just that tiny voice, the suspicious one that refused to trust anyone besides Sammy, refused outright. There was always a chance he WAS in on it, and just one hell of an actor.

Finally, he stared at the doctor, chewing at his lip in a frown. "Do you really wanna know? Because once you do, you're in. Right now, you're an outsider on this whole thing, you can walk away, but once you're in, I'm gonna need your help. And if you refuse, then I can't guarantee you'll stay safe by the end of this."

Az blinked, face scrunching up in confusion. "Dear boy, what are you going on about? Of course I'll help you, it's what I'm here for."

"Alright," Dean shrugged, holding his hands out in a submitting manner. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

oOoOo

Dean's session ran long, which worried Castiel. Usually Dr. Ziraphale was prompt, wrapping up his sessions in the correct time. It was almost time for dinner and Dean still wasn't back yet. He'd been acting strange all day, and that only made the dark haired angel more concerned.

When Chuck came to get Castiel for dinner, Dean was with him. He looked pensive, but otherwise undisturbed. He offered Castiel a tired grin as the pair was led to the cafeteria. They were early today, since Chuck had taken them first after Dean's session. They waited in line, while the others were brought in pairs by either Chuck or Uri.

Once Crowley and Balthazar were brought in, they were allowed to get their food, sitting in their normal places. Gabriel sat Anna down at the table, letting her start eating before taking his tray over to his conspirators.

"So, get anything done today, or were you too busy making out?" He asked with a grin, taking a bite out of his roll.

Castiel frowned at him, face flushing a bit. Dean fought back a grin, knowing that it would only egg Gabriel on.

"We've got it," he said instead, scooping up green beans with a spoon-- or at least trying to. "Raph and Anna's files are horrible, but they're exactly the evidence we need. I asked Az to see if he could dig up anything on my dad. His file's complete bullshit, but it can't be the real one. Az said he got it from Adler, so there's no way he got the real one."

"You told Dr. Ziraphale?" Castiel looked up over his fish fillet.

"It just sorta happened," Dean shrugged. "I told him what's going on, and he's on board to help. At least this way, I know I can make sure he doesn't go down with the rest of them. He doesn't deserve that."

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded. "He could come in handy too. At least he can get around pretty much as he pleases."

"So long as it doesn't look suspicious," Castiel pointed out.

"At any rate, after tomorrow, it won't matter. I've got enough in the other two files to get the job done. We can have this started by nightfall. At least stop anything from going on. We just have to wait on Sammy to come get me, and we--"

He stopped, staring at the door. Curious, Castiel and Gabriel followed his line of sight, to where a new figure was standing in the doorway. He looked around, before his green eyes stopped on Dean, offering a helpless look.

"Who's that?" Gabriel leaned against Dean, chin on his shoulder.

"Sammy...?"

Chuck was behind his brother, ushering him inside. Dean left the table and the patients, hurrying over to his taller sibling.

"Sam, what the hell?" Dean hissed, careful not to let Chuck hear him.

Sam shrugged. "There's been some… complications."

"Complications? What kind of freaking complications?"

"Funny, isn't it?" Uri's voice boomed from behind them. Sam's shoulders jerked in reflex, and Dean turned to glare at the orderly.

"What's that?"

"Crazy must run in your family, boy. First your daddy, now you and your brother."

"Sam, what's going on? What's he talking about?" Dean stepped away from Uri, getting closer, reaching for his brother's arm.

"Dean, I--"

Chuck cut him off, setting himself in between the siblings. He sent Dean a sympathetic look. "Sorry Michael. I brought him here for a second because he insisted he see you were safe, and Dr. Ziraphale allowed it. Now we have to finish his registration. You can see him more tomorrow."

"Registration?!" Dean's eyes went wide. "What the fuck do you need to register him for?! Sam's not crazy!"

"Your brother's been talking to demons," Uri said with a smug grin. "Adler caught him wandering around the property, speaking to voices."

"I swear, I didn't--"

"Adler himself caught you, boy. Telling the voices in your head about all the blood you've been drinking."

"I never said--"

"Winchester!" Adler was suddenly at the doorway now, glaring at the pair of them. Sam looked up. Dean didn't, keeping mind of his cover.

"Sam, we've gotta go," Chuck urged quietly. He put a hand on Sam's arm, moving Dean's away. "Sorry Michael. Don't make any more trouble for you both. I'd hate to have to keep you two apart."

Dean started to argue, but one look from Sam shut him up. This was a disaster, but they still had a job to do. All those patients were counting on them to see this through to the end. Breaking cover at this point would only get them killed, along with whoever had helped them.

Chuck led Sam out of the cafeteria, and Adler left them alone. Uri motioned his head, a silent order for Dean to sit back down. If looks could have killed, the orderly would've been a crater in the ground, but Dean went.

"Let me guess," Gabriel drawled, poking aimlessly at his green beans. "That was your partner. And your escape route."

Dean was livid. He wanted to break something, to put his fist through something. Or someone. Though he was pretty sure that counted as 'more trouble', and Chuck was right. The last thing they needed was for Adler to decide Dean needed more lock down time. He had to talk to Sam, to figure out what they were going to do. They had to get out of the hospital, and fast. Every second they wasted was more time for Adler to decide someone was due for a more serious and life- threatening cure.

"What should we do?" Castiel asked quietly. He stared at Dean, as if the detective had some magic wand to wave around to make this better.

"I dunno, Cas. I gotta talk to Sammy first. See what our chief knows about the situation. Maybe Bobby's got back up coming soon."

"And if we're on our own?" Gabriel prompted, tapping his fingers on the table.

"Then we'll do this Alcatraz style, and we'll bust the fuck outta here."

oOoOo

Dean didn't get a chance to see Sam until much later that night. He was put in a room of his own for the time being. After what had happened with Dean's first night there, no one was taking any chances on putting another Winchester in the same room as Lucifer.

The bad part about that new room meant that Dean didn't have a key for his brother's space. He'd only stolen keys for the occupied Angels' rooms, and the record room.

It wasn't going to stop him though. He needed to be sure his brother was alright. He hadn't seen Sam for a week, much longer than they'd been out of each others' sight since they took up their father's work. So he was worried enough about Sam just being on his own. It was an over- protective sibling thing. Not to mention he was trapped in a dangerous mental asylum with doctors that were just itching to take your head apart to get a peek at your brain.

And they needed to talk before he brought up any plans to Gabriel and Castiel. And tomorrow, he would talk to Ziraphale, to see what the doctor could do about disproving Adler's claims about Sam.

After the orderlies' final rounds that night, he slid out of the room. Castiel was on one of his 'angels don't sleep' nights, since he'd passed out with Dean the night before. He offered to go with the detective, but didn't push when Dean said he needed to talk to Sam alone first. Instead, he went back to the stolen ledger, wanting to find as much evidence as possible for their case.

Dean made his way through the halls as silently as possible. Luckily, it wasn't as long a trip as the record room. So if someone came around for some reason, he could probably hurry back to his room before they caught him. His and Castiel's room was the first on the hall. At the other end was Lucifer's. Gabriel's room was beside Luce's, and he guessed the one beside his own. So he went to the end of the hall, past the room he'd originally been assigned to. All the rooms had a slot at the bottom of the door. Most likely in case a patient was on lock down enough to not even get cafeteria time, the meals would be shoved through the slot. Quietly, he knocked on the door, sliding down to push the slot open and peer in.

"Sammy?"

There was shuffling from the other side, before his brother peeked out from the inside. "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"How'd you get out?"

Dean grinned. "Stole some keys the other day. Didn't have your room though, or else I'd come inside to see you."

Sam smiled in return, but it was more of the weak humor kind. "We've gotta get out of here."

"Working on that," Dean tapped a finger against the door. "What's Bobby know about all this?"

Sam sighed, his cheek pressed against the floor as he lay facing the slot. "That I was coming in to get you."

"So what happens if we don't show for awhile? Will he come looking?"

"Most likely," he gnawed at his lip, deep in thought. "Did you find anything?"

Dean scoffed. "I've definitely got the evidence part covered. I'm working on getting the real version of Dad's folder though."

Sam frowned, staring at his brother through the slot. "Okay, so we've got the evidence. Is it gonna be missed? If we have to wait for Bobby, are they gonna start noticing that things are gone? We're at their mercy right now, Dean. If they're doing these kinds of things, we've got no defense against it. They took all my gear away when they brought me in."

"I dunno, Sam," Dean rubbed his temple irritably. "They haven't noticed yet, and I've had it all since last night. They haven't done anything too bad since I've been here. Unless you count the meatloaf."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, at this point, we've got two choices. We can wait for Bobby, take our chances there, or we can break the fuck outta here, and take these guys with us."

"Take them with us? Dean, you can't be serious!" He hissed, giving his brother his best bitchface.

"I am," the other was not affected in the slightest. "I can't leave them in here. I promised them I wouldn't run off without them. I can't do that, man. If we go, they go. Even the devil, if he agrees not to kill me for ten freaking minutes."

Sam stared at him for a few seconds, studying him intently. Finally he sighed.

"Fine. What did you have in mind?"

oOoOo

Dean and Gabriel were allowed back in the common room the next day. So the first thing they did, before anyone got taken to sessions, was to gather everyone together for a game of cards. Or, to be more precise, they gathered everyone together to speak about their plans. They also played cards, but this was more for appearances sake than anything else. Although it didn't stop Crowley from cheating.

"Okay, so your escape got botched," the self- proclaimed demon said in his usual smugly accented tone, staring at his hand. "So now what? Sit around and wait?"

"That's why we're having this little chat," Dean replied, giving the other a deadpan look. "I don't wanna wait around for my boss to know something's up. That's too much time for Adler to decide to fuck around. So we're looking at an escape plan."

"Sounds like fun," Balthazar smirked, yanking Crowley's hidden ace out of his hand, tossing it aside. "Would you stop that, it's not even from the same deck!"

Crowley just snorted.

"An escape? I really thought you were joking. I knew you were dumb, but this is a new level," Gabriel sat back in his chair, tipping it backwards. Beside him, Anna sketched away, speaking to no one.

Dean shivered, reminded all too well of his dream.

"If Dean believes it's the best course of action, then I believe him," Castiel spoke up, fiddling with his cards.

"Of course YOU'D say that," the blond angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That your little school girl crush is painfully obvious," Balthazar continued, reaching to ruffle the shorter man's hair. Castiel ducked away, glaring at him even as his face flushed.

"So, if anyone has any ideas," Sam tried to get them back on track, "Now would be the time to speak out."

Everyone was silent. Either lost in thought, or just entirely too skeptical of this so- called plan of the siblings, Dean wasn't sure. He hoped it was the former, because they could really use some trump cards at this point.

"The basement."

Everyone stared at Anna. She didn't look up from her sketching, but there was no mistaking that she'd spoken.

"Anna?" Gabriel nearly gasped. "You... you talked."

She hummed, her charcoal digging into the paper.

"Can you say something else?"

Shaking her head, she continued on as if she hadn't said anything. Whatever moment of clarity she'd had was gone. Gabriel sighed, his shoulders slumping as he tipped his chair to rest all four legs on the floor once again.

"She's right though," Castiel tossed his cards down. "The files all referred to the patients being brought to the basement for their treatments." He didn't go into detail on what the 'treatments' were. He didn't have to. "They couldn't have carried the bodies out through the front door. There has to be an exit there."

Crowley snapped his fingers. "There's always a tunnel. Every one of these places I've seen has some sort of basement exit. So no one scares the patients by bringing dead bodies around. That'd be our best bet. Better than trying to sneak everyone out the bloody front door."

"And what if we get down there and we're trapped?" Balthazar arched a brow.

"We're no worse off than we are now," Gabriel said quietly. "We're all just waiting around for it to be our turn."


	9. And we're caught in the crossfire of Heaven and Hell…

Their meeting- slash- card game lasted the rest of the afternoon. Every hour, someone left for their session, but when they came back, they were quickly caught up to speed. It was important that everyone knew what they were doing; Dean didn't want anyone to get left behind.

They were going to act that night. They couldn't take the chance of Adler singling anyone else out. Dean had the keys to everyone's room except Sam's. they also knew that Chuck was the one to usher Sam around, since his temperament didn't warrant Uri. So it was up to Sam to either get Chuck to go along with the plan, or subdue him before he could lock Sam up for the night. If he helped, he'd get the same amnesty that Dr. Ziraphale would. If not, they couldn't do anything for him.

Either way, Sam was to meet the rest of the group as Dean unlocked their rooms, and they would sneak into the basement. From there, they'd have to find their way to the exit and break out. This would be much easier with Chuck's help-- and keys-- but they'd do it regardless. Between nine of them, they'd manage. Dean didn't think Az had a key, but he hadn't gotten a chance to ask yet. He would use his session to fill the doctor in on the plan, as well as to check what progress he'd made in finding his father's true file.

Gabriel would tell Lucifer all the details at dinner. He and Dean had been kept separate since their last fight over Castiel, even at meals, so the so- called trickster angel would have to explain the plan to him.

They needed to move as quickly as possible. If everything went right, they'd have most of the night to escape right out from under Adler's nose. Dean was a pessimist, however, and he knew something WOULD go wrong. So speed would be their best chance.

By the time Castiel left for his session, the plan was set. Dean dismissed the meeting, although Crowley, Gabriel and Sam kept playing cards anyway, and Anna kept sketching. Dean was set to join them when Balthazar stood, putting a hand on the detective's shoulder.

“A word, Michael?”

Curious, Dean nodded, getting up. Sam glanced at him, making sure everything was alright, and Dean gave him an easy going grin. He followed the blond to one of the other tables. Balthazar hadn’t really made much effort to talk to him since he’d gotten here. “What’s up?”

Balthazar rested his chin on a hand. “You and Cassie seem to be getting pretty close lately.”

“I guess. Something wrong with that?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he replied, arching a brow. “Castiel is a close friend of mine, and I need to make sure you’re not going to get him in trouble.”

“I’m helping him the same way I’m helping the rest of you,” Dean shrugged.

Balthazar snorted. “I’m sure you’re... ‘helping’ him a bit more than the rest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you don’t need that explained to you. Cassie, maybe, but you’re a bit more worldly, aren’t you?”

“Look, whatever ideas you’re getting about me and Cas, you can stop, cuz it’s not like that.”

“Not for lack of trying, I suppose.”

Dean huffed out a breath, feeling his face warm and hating it. He thought back to waking up tangled up with Cas, comfortable and relaxed. “So what’s this really about? Gonna try to give me the overprotective big brother speech?”

“Something like that,” Balthazar’s fingers tapped on the table, bored. “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you. I don’t care who you are, or who you’re pretending to be. You don’t hurt him. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Dean rolled his eyes. “And because you’re such a sweetheart, I’ll ignore the part where you threatened a police detective.”

“Marvelous.”

The blond moved to get up. After a moment’s thought, Dean grabbed at the other’s sleeve. “One more thing about Cas…" Dean rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, not really sure how to proceed. How did you explain that your friend was a little more bats hit than anyone previously thought?

"Are you going to ask me for his hand in marriage? I'll only say yes if I get to give him away at the wedding," he joked, smirking.

"Hilarious," the detective deadpanned. "Look, this is serious. You know Cas that well? Do you know about what Gabriel told me the other day? The creepy thing you angels are all scared of? I saw that."

The smile dropped from his face. He almost tipped his chair backwards; he would have wound up on the floor, if Dean hadn't grabbed his arm to pull him back steady.

"You what?"

"I saw it. The other thing in Cas's head. Cas freaked out when he read Raph's file and suddenly I wasn't talking to Castiel anymore."

"What did it say?"

"It's pissed at me, for starters," Dean rolled his eyes, thinking back to the conversation he'd had with it. "Called itself Leviathan. My best guess is that it's trying to wear Cas down in this place, so it can take over. Said if I helped Cas escape, I'd ruin all its' plans."

"Does Cassie know?"

The detective frowned. "I'm not sure. He didn't say anything about it, didn't seem to notice anything was wrong when he came back around. There's always a chance he's just keeping quiet about it. I just wanted to tell you, so you can help me make sure nothing happens to Cas during the break out."

"You think this Leviathan would try something to keep Cassie from breaking out?"

"It's possible," he shrugged. "I just don't wanna take any chances. I promised Cas I'd get him out. I don't intend to leave anyone behind, like I said."

Balthazar nodded. "I'll keep an eye on him. Don't worry."

oOoOo

"You're serious about this?" Dr. Ziraphale stared at him. He tapped his pen against the desk, the look on his face caught between disbelief and concern.

Dean nodded. "It's gotta be this way. We can't wait for reinforcements.

“And the patients are aware of this?”

“Yeah, I went over it with them today. They’re all on board. Now, if you want to play this from our side, you’re gonna have to come with us. If you stay, I can’t guarantee they won’t try to take you down with them.”

Az pursed his lips in thought. The files were spread out on his desk, the true files on John, Anna and Raphael. The first thing Dean did when he entered Dr. Ziraphale’s office was to show him these files, and explain everything, from the undercover operation, to Adler’s secret therapies, and finally, their escape plan. The doctor had been incredulous at first, but the files gave him little cause to doubt the other.

“I suppose there’s nothing to be done for it, if you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry. Sam and I, we’ll take care of everyone.”

Az nodded, though he still looked worried. Dean gave him an encouraging smile, settling a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. You wanna do what’s best for your patients, right?”

“Of course I do. Every one of them.”

Dean nodded. “This is the right thing to do. You can help us keep them safe.”

The doctor let out a long breath. “We’re staging an escape tonight, I suppose. It’s all rather like a thriller novel, don’t you think?”

oOoOo

Dean knew something was going to go wrong. It was doomed from the start. What he didn't expect, however, was what actually happened. He was worried that something was going to go wrong on Sam's end. That he'd wind up not being able to get out of his room that night. He half- figured he would have to go break the door down.

Instead, it was Az that brought the problem.

They'd just gotten done with dinner. Dean and Castiel were back in their room already, waiting for the halls to quiet. Sam was supposed to be talking to Chuck, either convincing him or detaining him. Az had volunteered to help, walking with Dean's brother and the orderly. Even if Sam by himself wasn't enough to convince Chuck-- which Dean doubted; his brother could charm pretty much anyone when he wanted to, with his puppy eyes that Dean had fallen prey to far too many times to be okay-- then the doctor's help would certainly tip the scales. This put Dean at ease slightly.

Dean gathered up his files, as well as the ledger Castiel had taken. The angel was all ready to go. Dean had told him earlier to pack anything absolutely necessary, and leave everything else. And Castiel had taken it to heart, only stuffing a few things into his pockets.

The detective watched him carefully, studying him from his side of the room. Castiel hadn't done anything out of the ordinary so far, but Dean wouldn't be happy until they were all outside of the place. There was always the chance that the Leviathan would try something to keep Castiel locked up here. Dean wasn't going to let that happen, no matter if he had to tie the guy up and carry him out kicking and screaming.

An hour later, lights out was called. The pair of them laid in their beds, looking for all the world like they were going to sleep as the halls and rooms darkened. Instead, Dean stared up at the ceiling, going over everything in his head. Beside him, Castiel's breathing was steady, and Dean wondered if he was nervous. There was still no sign of Leviathan, which was reassuring, but he couldn't completely rule it out just yet.

He knew from past experience that the orderlies' last round was an hour after lights out. So they didn't have long to wait before Dean slid out from under his blanket, tiptoeing to the door to peek out of the metal slot.

The coast was clear. Dean couldn't count on Chuck wandering by, just in case he'd been detained by Sam earlier. When he felt they'd waited long enough without seeing anyone, he slipped all the stolen keys into his pocket, turning to Castiel.

"Ready?"

The angel sat up, looking around the room. "I suppose so. Are you sure about this?"

"Not really," he replied, shrugging with a bit of a grin. "But it's the best choice. And we can pull it off. Just don't freak out or anything, okay? We'll get you guys out of here, like I promised."

Castiel nodded, getting to his feet with a steadiness Dean hadn't really expected of an asylum patient. Maybe the pep talk wasn't needed. Or maybe Castiel just had far more trust in Dean than he should have any good sense to. "Of course."

Dean unlocked their door, and slid outside into the hall. Castiel followed close behind, moving silently. The detective made his way down the corridor, deciding it'd be best to start with Sam's room. That way if there was trouble, they could minimize any damage.

To his relief, Sam's door was unlocked. He opened it, poking his head inside.

"Sammy?"

Sam was in his bed, with his back to the door. At the voice, he turned around, sitting up.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah. What happened with Chuck?"

Sam slid out of the bed. "He said he couldn't help, but he wouldn't do anything to hinder us either. Said he had to stay neutral. Whatever that's about. He also conveniently forgot to lock my door, so that's helpful at least."

"Thank god for small favors," Dean shrugged, moving aside to let his brother out. Sam smiled at Castiel in greeting, who nodded in return.

Dean made his way to the room beside Sam's, fishing through his keys to find the right one. They all looked the same, which was slightly frustrating, but he found it soon enough.

Sam opened the door this time. Dean still wasn't sure about Lucifer; he was half- worried that the patient would cause a scene and get them all caught. Gabriel had assured him that Luce was in, so long as he could get out, he would call a sort of truce with the detective. It was the best Dean could hope for, but he was a little wary.

After a moment, Lucifer stepped out of the room, looking at the three of them in turn. Then he decided to ignore the other two almost entirely, moving to stand next to Sam. Dean decided it was better than a fight, and moved on.

They came to Gabriel's room next. Dean found the needed key and unlocked the door. He ushered the small group inside this time, wanting to keep their time in the halls to a minimum, in case someone decided to stroll around. Gabriel was waiting for them, kicking his legs idly as he sat on his bed. He grinned at Dean, hopping off.

"About time, kiddo. I was getting bored."

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. Gabriel padded to the other side of the room, rousing Anna from her sleep. She got up obediently, slipping into her huge sweater. Gabriel took her hand, leading her along.

Back out in the hall, they reached the final door, beside Dean and Castiel's room, and their last stop before heading to the basement. Dean fumbled for the key, but before he could reach the door to unlock it, it swung open.

Leaving Dean facing a rather shocked Dr. Adler.

Both froze for a moment, surprise stopping them. Then Adler scowled.

"How the hell did you get out?!"

Well shit. So much for a quiet exit. He looked in the room.

Uri was there as well, as was Balthazar, Crowley and, strangely enough, Dr. Ziraphale. Crowley was struggling against the restraints on a rolling gurney he was trapped on. Balthazar was in the corner, looking slightly dazed and sporting a good- sized bruise on his jaw. Az was standing between Uri and Crowley in a defensive stance, face set sternly.

This wasn't going to go well.

Before Adler had a chance to react, Dean shoved him back into the room, hard. The director fell back with a shout. This distracted Uri long enough for the group to filter into the room. Sam and Dean, in their usual wordless communication, moved at once to tackle Uri to the ground. Castiel stood over Adler, shoving him down with a foot when he tried to get back up. Gabriel led Anna toward Balthazar, checking to see if he was alright.

Uri reached for something in his pocket, obviously trying to get to the syringe he always kept there. Sam wasn't going to let that happen, however, his shoe crushing the orderly's hand until he let it go. He quickly fished it out of the other's pocket, holding it away.

Ziraphale, seeing that the threats were neutralized for the time being, went to work on freeing Crowley from the leather cuffs.

Sam pushed the needle into Uri's shoulder, pumping him full of the sedative. The large man struggled for a few moments, tossing Dean off him in the process, before it kicked in and he stilled.

"What the fuck happened?" Dean got to his feet, moving to help Az.

"He... they were going to take Crowley to the basement," Az stammered, hands shaking almost too badly to work on the bindings. Dean took over.

"Guess they figured out about the questionable doctor- patient relationship," Crowley quipped, rubbing at his wrists once he was free. He hopped off the bed. "How're we doing over there, Bal?"

The blond grinned, licking at a split lip. "It was a lucky shot."

"You guys had to pick tonight to get caught?" Dean growled, raking a hand through his hair. "Let's just get out of here. We'll never make it through the front, with all the night security, even if we've already ruined the whole surprise thing."

Sam, once he was absolutely sure Uri was out of commission, got to his feet, turning to the group in the corner. "Gabe, do you know the way to the basement?"

The brunette nodded. "I know my way anywhere around here."

"Then let's go," Dean moved toward the door, pushing Castiel out and away from Adler.

The rest of the group followed quickly, save for Sam, who took over guarding the director. He glared up at the taller man, teeth bared in a snarl, but didn't move. Sam had a good few feet on him, not to mention better strength.

Dean tossed his brother the key, all but shoving Castiel down the hall and urging on the other patients. Once they were clear, he turned back to grab Sam.

His brother was moving to lock the door, and the moment he took his eyes off the director, Adler had reached in his pocket, pulling out a syringe of his own. He lunged across the floor, aiming at Sam's leg.

Before Dean could even cry out a warning, Castiel shoved past him, slamming into Sam and knocking them both back into the room. Sam let out a surprised yelp, the momentum pushing him out of Adler's reach. Instead the syringe was jabbed into Castiel's side, and his pained noise made Dean curse.

"Cas!" He dashed back toward the room.

Sam yanked the syringe away, tossing it against the wall, but it was too late; it was already empty, and Castiel was already slumping against the taller man.

He pushed weakly at Sam, his words slurred by the sedative. "Sam, go... get everyone out..."

Adler was off the floor by now, stalking towards them. He fished another syringe out of his pocket, obviously more prepared than Uri had been. Sam scooped up Castiel's limp form, moving from his spot just in time to avoid Adler's arm.

He hit the far wall instead, curling protectively over the unconscious Castiel rather than hurt him with the impact. Adler swung out again, and Sam weaved out of the way, narrowly avoiding the sharp needle. He sidestepped the director, running for the door.

Adler reached out, desperate to grab onto something. His fingers closed around Castiel's jacket, and he tugged hard. The angel's body slipped out of Sam's arms unexpectedly, and he turned just in time to run into Dean at the door.

Dean shoved at his brother, urging him out of the room. "Go get the others out!"

"What about you?!" Sam braced himself in the doorway.

"I'll get Cas and I'll be after you. Just go!" He didn't look at him, kept his gaze on Adler.

Sam stared at him for a few moments, debating, before he took off in the direction Gabriel had led the others.

Dean narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to the director and his captive. "Let him go."

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Adler hissed, his fingers curled tight over Castiel's wrist. The other hand waved the syringe wildly. "You've ruined everything! All the work and the sacrifices!"

"We're getting out of here," Dean growled, taking another step toward them. "And I'm taking Cas with me."

"What's so special about him?" the director sneered. "He's just a little psycho in a house full of them. Not even a good one. He couldn't even pick an interesting angel to pretend to be."

"Let. Him. Go." Dean said through gritted teeth, fists clenching at his side.

"You want him so bad? Come and get him."

Dean made a grab immediately, hoping to catch Adler by surprise and yank Castiel away. The other was ready for him, however, and Dean hissed in pain as he felt the needle of the syringe pierce his arm. He persisted regardless, grabbing onto Castiel's arm. Adler let him, practically shoving the angel toward Dean.

Head swimming, the detective wrapped his arms around his friend, trudging to the door. He only made it a few steps before his vision blurred, and he fell to his knees.

Adler watched him with a smirk. He kept a tight hold on Castiel before his eyes slid shut, and everything went black.

 

 


	10. Release me from this curse I'm in...

 

  
Gabriel was true to his word about knowing the place, leading the group to the basement door. He kept a tight hold on Anna's hand, not letting her go as she jogged quietly behind him. The others kept pace, Sam catching up easily after leaving Dean with Castiel.

"They're gonna be okay, right?" he spared a glance at the taller man, turning a corner sharply on the stairs.

"Dean won't let anything happen to him," Sam said by way of assurance, taking the stairs two at a time. "So long as he's kicking, Cas'll be safe."

"And when he stops kicking?" Crowley arched a brow, following behind him. Much like Gabriel led Anna, he kept his own grip on Az's arm, yanking the doctor along.

Sam didn't have an answer to that. For all it looked like Dean had the situation under control, there was always a chance something would go wrong. He let the question hang unanswered as they ran.

The door to the basement was in the same stairwell as the other three floors, through a locked door. They didn't have any keys; Sam wasn't even sure Dean had the key to the basement. He moved Gabriel back a bit, steadying himself for a moment before ramming his shoulder into the door. The force of it recoiled him back a bit, but he just repeated the action.

After the second try, Lucifer moved to help, and the pair of them sent the door knocking open, slamming against the far wall on its hinges.

Sam took the lead, Gabriel's knowledge of the building not stepping into territory he'd never been before. He pushed forward, leading the small group down the new corridor the basement opened up into.

The basement was dark. It was damp and dripping water from pipes that ran along the length of the ceiling. The hallway was small, made of old dirty brick. There was barely enough room for the group to go through two at a time. Sam was at the lead, while Lucifer had situated himself at the rear. He didn't speak to anyone, but Sam at least trusted him to watch out for the group for now. For some reason, the blond didn't give Sam the same opposition he'd given Dean, but Sam wasn't going to complain about it right now. They needed to get out as soon as possible, so he could go back and look for Dean and Castiel.

They moved through the hall, and Sam looked into every doorway they came across. There was always a chance one of those doors led to the exit, and if they could avoid getting lost down here, the better things would go. The doors led to mostly large rooms, as dimly lit as the rest of the basement. There were gurneys set up in the rooms, sometimes with electrical equipment hooked up around them. Electrotherapy, Sam recognized from his research on the case. He shuddered, moving the group along. Other rooms contained large empty tubs, most likely used for water therapy. He fought hard to keep from being sick, pushing on.

Lucifer and Balthazar, near the back, moved along without looking inside the rooms. Pointedly not looking. Az kept close to Crowley, staring inside with wide shock. How something this terrible could have been happening right under him, while he worked here for years, it was unthinkable. Crowley didn't look in the rooms, but he kept stealing glances at the doctor, squeezing his arm if he started to look too lost, too pained. Neither of them wanted to think what would have happened if the others hadn't arrived a few minutes later.

Anna was shaking, her eyes wider than Gabriel had ever seen them. And she normally had the wide eyed look about her anyway. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her along the hall faster. He kept as close to Sam as possible, hoping the detective's presence, as well as his own, would help her a little. It couldn't have been anything but torment, coming back here after what they'd done to her. Gabriel's face darkened; if he ever met up with any of them again, there would be more than hell to pay.

Sam knew how restless his party was getting. He tried to move faster, but the hall seemed to go on forever. It was as if it spanned the entirety of the hospital, which was actually a very real possibility. There was no telling how many patients had been brought here, with all its' rooms, and never made it out.

The hall led into a corner, which Sam took quickly. The rest of the group followed, and at the end of this hall was a large door, taking up most of the wall. That had to be the way out, Sam reasoned, and hurried towards it.

The door was chained shut, and Sam rammed his shoulder against it as soon as he reached it, hoping he could force it open. After a few tries, he told them to stay put, while he went into the nearest room, looking for anything he could use to break the lock. It looked fairly old, so with the right tool, he might be able to get it open without too much trouble.

Eventually he happened upon an old shovel, rusted in the corner. He grabbed it, rushing back out into the hall, and moving the others out of the way. He whacked at the lock with the shovel, bringing it down until finally the lock cracked, falling to the floor. He unwound the chain from the handles, pushing the doors open as the metal groaned.

He turned to the group. "Get out of here. Luce, you and Gabe keep everyone together, make sure no one gets left behind. If you can get out to the main road, you'll be okay. If someone stops you, tell them there's police trapped inside that need help."

"What about you?" the brunette tightened his grip on Anna's hand.

"I've gotta go in and make sure Dean and Cas are okay. I can't just leave them."

Without waiting for a reply, Sam turned on a heel and took off back down the hall.

oOoOo

Dean groaned, his head swimming as he tried rather unsuccessfully to blink his eyes open. His head felt like a train had run through it, and his entire body ached. He rolled his shoulders, wincing as the joints popped loudly.

He was propped up against a wall, sitting on the floor. It was cold, and the air felt damp around him. Half his body was leaning against something cold and metal, including his face. He pushed off the thing to find it was a large pipe, running the height of the wall. He moved to sit up, only to realize he was trapped to the pole. Handcuffs were around either of his wrists, with the pipe between his arms.

"The fuck?"

"Well, it's about time," a voice sighed. Dean's hair immediately stood on end. "I was starting to think I'd OD'd you. Some people just can't handle a little sedation."

"Adler," Dean growled, his voice hoarse from non- use. He tugged against the cuffs, finding them stuck tight. "Where's Cas?"

Adler stepped into Dean's vision, leaning down to look at him face to face. "That's cute, really."

"Where is he?!"

The director sighed, crossing his arms. "So, I knew I should have taken you out as soon as you got here, Dean. And especially once Ziraphale told me about your father. I should have known anything with the name Winchester attached to it would be more trouble than they're worth."

"So why didn't you?" he rasped, twisting his wrists.

"Because your doctor was convinced that you were really crazy. That you really were an angel like the rest of them."

"You think they're really angels?" Dean arched a brow.

Adler rolled his eyes. "That's not really the point here, is it? The point is that I decided the stupid doctor was too flighty to be a problem for me. Turned around to bite me in the ass."

"Yeah well... can't say I'm sorry for that one. Az was pretty helpful once I told him about all the shit you've been doing around here. So when this whole thing gets out, he'll be okay. YOU'LL be lucky if all you get is life."

"You think so?" He was grinning again, that smug look like he had all the cards in his hand. In this case, he did. He held out the files Dean had stolen, fanned out in his hands. "All your evidence is right here. Without this, all you've got is the words of asylum patients. Including you and your brother."

Dean bit back a curse. "Doesn't matter. Even without the paper evidence, we'll have enough to put you away. This place'll be shut down, and everyone who went along with you will have you to thank for getting them thrown in the slammer with you."

He was bluffing and they both knew it. There was a chance that Dean could work the case anyway, but the paper evidence was his best bet. Adler was right, no one was going to believe mental patients, no matter how sane they seemed. Even if two of them had been detectives.

Even so, he wasn't going down without a fight. He needed to get out of the cuffs, get the files and find Castiel. He'd been in worse scrapes before.

Adler was watching him, as if he could read the other's thoughts and was trying to figure him out. "Do you really think you've still got a chance here?"

"Well, you know what they say. Fortune favors the brave. Or something like that. Sammy's more philosophical than I am."

"Your brother," Adler smirked. "How long was he there waiting, scoping the place out, hmm? The whole time you were here? How long had you been planning this undercover operation, only to have it blow up in your face because you wanted to save a mop- headed little awkward angel?"

Dean narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't be making comments on anyone's hair if I were you."

"Oh. Now THAT'S hilarious. Such wit." Adler snapped back at him, giving him a solid kick in the side. Dean grunted, colliding with the pipe he was cuffed to. "The cops are on their way, Dean. They're going to find all the little escapees, and I'm going to deal with them. So don't think you've even got that to gloat over. You can't fight me, and you poor little crazies can't fight the system."

Dean glared up at him, defiant as always. "We'll just see about that, won't we?"

"Suppose we will," Adler didn't miss a beat. "And while we wait, why don't we do something interesting?"

"Like what?" he growled, twisting against the cuffs once again.

If his smirk got any bigger, it would fall straight off his face. "It's a little game I like to play sometimes. The last person I played it with didn't really last very long. Maybe this time it'll be a little more of a challenge."

"What the hell are you getting at?" Dean let his head tip back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "If you're going to torture me, just get it over with. Your voice pisses me off."

"As tempting as that is, I think you'll just have to wait your turn on this one. It was hard enough getting all this stuff hooked up once, let alone taking it all off just to get you in first."

Dean frowned, eyes falling back on him. "What the hell are you talking about? There's no one--" he stopped short, his stomach flipping, suddenly nauseous. "Cas."

Adler chuckled. "Got it in one."

Dean sat up immediately, looking around the room. He'd thought he was alone in the room with Adler, but if he strained his neck just a bit, he could see something atop the medical gurney in the center of the room, breathing shallowly.

"Cas!"

Dean yanked the cuffs against the metal pipe, hoping to possibly break them. They held fast, however. He glared at the director. "Don't you fucking dare, I swear I'll take you down so hard there won't be enough left to put in prison."

Adler didn't look intimidated. Instead, he leaned on the bottom of the gurney, chin resting on his palms. "You think so? I already told you, Dean. There's no winning this. Your friends, your brother, they're all going to be brought right back here. I'm going to deal with the two ring leaders of this right now. Then when the cops bring them all back, I'll finish off with the side cast. No survivors."

"You son of a bitch..."

"Aw," he grinned, pushing himself up, circling the bed to flip a switch on the machine. It hummed to life. "Words hurt."

"Not as much as I'm gonna hurt you, first chance I get," Dean growled out, yanking hard at the cuffs.

Adler picked up what looked like a cloth hat. It had wires running through it, leading up to the machine near the head of the bed. He looked it over for a few moments, studying it thoughtfully before sliding it over Castiel's head, tying the straps to keep it in place.

Dean pulled against the bonds so hard that the clank of metal against metal echoed outside of the room. Still nothing gave, and he couldn't move. "Don't..."

"So what, I'm just supposed to let him go off after the stunt you all pulled? I don't think so."

"Cas didn't... It was me who set it all up, he was just following along! If you're gonna take it out on someone, take it out on me!"

"Oh, I plan to, don't worry." The smirk was anything but comforting. "But I've been hearing a few interesting things about this one. I was going to take the demon tonight, because of his little playdates with the doctor, but I was coming for this little angel next."

Dean cursed, wondering if there was some way he could break the pipe enough to move his hands through.

"You boys take me for stupid, don't you?" He snorted, toying with a few wires. "Don't answer that. See, the point is, despite it all, I know everything that goes on in this place. I know about the doctor's cute little romance with the demon. I know about the two bumbling detectives that tried to sneak in here and shut me down. I know about you and this one and the short one breaking into the record room. I know his little outburst was a distraction. I KNOW EVERYTHING!"

He turned to stare at Dean at his last statement, shouting it at the detective. Dean's expression didn't change. Adler took a break, straightened out his suit, and went back to work, adjusting the wires and checking the machine.

"So, now we're at the end of our little game. I want you to know exactly what your choices have led to. Your actions have caused all these people to be punished. Their pain is on your hands."

Adler shrugged. Dean let out a yell of protest as he flipped the switch.

The already dim lights flickered, the machinery taking more of the power away to channel into the wires. Dean yanked so hard against the cuffs that he could feel something twist painfully in his wrist. He was half- aware he was screaming, curses and 'no's and Castiel's name.

Adler kept his finger on the switch, watching the whole thing with a morbid sense of awe. Castiel's body seized, limbs shaking and bouncing off the gurney as the electrical current flowed through him. He didn't make any noise, aside from a few short gasps for air, muffled by the mouthpiece on the headset, in place so the patient wouldn't bite off his own tongue during the process. The whole thing lasted seconds, although it went on for hours in Dean's mind. Adler flipped the switch back to the off position, and Castiel was still once more.

"You psycho son of a bitch!" Dean spat, struggling against the cuffs. He kicked out, trying desperately to find some way to get free.

Adler tapped Castiel's shoulder, as if checking to be sure the electricity wasn't flowing any more. Then he reached for the angel's wrist, checking for a pulse. Dean's breath stuck in his throat,

unable to take his eyes off the pair of them.

Finally he shrugged. "He's not dead, if that's what you're wondering."

The breath left him in a sudden exhale. The director's hand moved toward the switch once more.

"Stop!" Dean shouted, twisting his already bruised wrists. "What can I do to make you stop? You're gonna kill him!"

"Well, that would be a bit unfortunate, wouldn't it? Still, it's happened before."

Dean watched in horror as the switch was flipped again. The lights flickered and Castiel arched off the bed, current running through his body. This time a few pained whimpers slipped out from the mouth piece. The director turned the machine off faster this time, watching to make sure his patient was still alive. Castiel mumbled something indecipherable, arms and legs twitching every few seconds.

"He's doing a lot better than I thought," Adler said, a smile in his tone. "Still, I think we should give him a break, don't you?"

The detective nodded frantically. Anything to get him to step away from that machine before he got Cas killed. The angel was whimpering, shaking through the aftershocks so hard that Dean could see it from his place across the room.

"It's okay, Cas, you're gonna be okay. We'll get you out of here soon, just sit tight."

Adler laughed. "Real cute, like I said. Neither of you are leaving here." He turned back towards Castiel, and Dean growled in rage. Instead, he left the machine alone, this time just patting the dark haired patient on the shoulder. "Don't worry though. You get a break for now, while I deal with your friend. I'll come back to you. I'm curious to see if I can get those other voices of yours to talk to me."

If Dean didn't already feel like he was ten seconds from throwing up everything he'd eaten in the past day, he would have lost it right there. There was no way Adler could be talking about anything but Leviathan. He was honestly trying to bring the bastard out.

Castiel whimpered again, shaking his head as he mumbled around the mouth piece. No one could understand him, although Adler didn't seem to care. He moved away from the angel, crossing the room at a leisurely pace to crouch down in front of Dean.

Dean glared in return, defiant once again, now that the focus was on him and not Castiel. This he could do. If he had to throw himself at Adler, so be it. But he couldn't deal with his friend getting hurt because of him.

"Now, what should we do to you, hmm?" Adler tilted his head back and forth, sizing him up. "If I recall correctly, your father was done in after some intense insulin therapy. Maybe that would be fitting, like father, like son?"

Dean grit his teeth so hard he could hear the noise as they ground together. There was movement behind him, Castiel shifting on the gurney. If he could get up, then at least he might be able to escape while Adler's attention was on him.

"Do whatever the fuck you want, man, I don't really care."

The director chuckled, tapping his fingers against his chin in thought. "I need something quick for you. I can't run the risk of letting you out of those cuffs."

Castiel's hands came up, shaking, moving to quietly undo the clasps on the headset, peeling it off to lay on the bed beside his head.

"Probably your best interest. If I get my hands free, I'll kill you," Dean spat out, meaning every word.

Adler rolled his eyes. "So melodramatic, Dean." Reaching into his pockets, he fished out a pocket knife, flicking it open. "You seem like the type to go out with a mess. It's really too bad I couldn't get to you in enough time to save you from yourself, isn't it?"

Dean scowled, confused for a moment as to what he was referring to, before Adler brought the knife to one of his bound wrists. He tried to pull his arm away, but the cuffs held it in place. The blade tip pressed into the inside of his wrist and he let out a hiss.

Before it could cut any deeper, a loud crash reverberated throughout the room, as Castiel made it from the gurney onto his feet, knocking over the machine he'd been hooked up to. He glared at Adler, blue eyes burning in rage like Dean had never seen them. The director, surprised by the noise, dropped the knife and whirled around to face the angel.

"You wanted to see me so bad?" He growled, gravel voice even more hoarse. Dean knew, staring up at him, this wasn't Castiel. This was Leviathan.

The thing grinned, crooked and malicious, which looked entirely out of place on Castiel's features.

"Well here I am."


	11. Something in myself has slipped away…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art by [maxwell-kiddo](http://maxwell-kiddo.devianart.com/)

"Shit," Dean stared, mouth hanging slightly open. Castiel trudged forward, still not completely steady after the treatment. Dean was surprised he was even walking after that much electricity running through him.

Castiel's face cracked into a wide grin, eyes starting at Dean, before moving to stare down Adler. "So what was so important that you had to pump the angel full of shock waves to get to me, hmm?"

"So what do you think YOU are?" Adler turned, stepping away from Dean to study Castiel. "You don't think you're an angel, do you?"

"Of course not," he replied, chuckling. "Although for the record, just because something's unbelievable doesn't mean it doesn't have a chance at existing. So you might wanna be a little nicer to the higher powers."

"You didn't answer my question," Adler turned his back on Dean completely. "What do you think you are?"

Dean stretched his leg out, trying to catch the toe of his boot on the knife Adler had dropped. There was a chance he could pick the cuffs with it, if the blade were thin enough. Any chance was better than the nothing he had now.

Castiel stepped closer, his feet falling erratically, almost like a zombie with his shuffling steps. It was unnerving. He kept his eyes on Adler the entire time, wider than Castiel's normal expressions got. "You can call me Leviathan. And I'm not an angel. I'm something older."

"Fascinating," Adler replied, a bit deadpan. "And why am I supposed to care, exactly?"

"It doesn't really mean much now," the dark haired patient shrugged, head tilting with the motion. "Once the decision is made though, we'll have our powers back. And killing you will make the little angel so happy. It might actually shut him up for ten seconds."

"Killing me?" the director scoffed, leaning back to cross his arms. "For one thing, I don't know what you're talking about having powers, but it's even more delusional than I thought. And second, you've just threatened me with murder. If I wasn't planning on frying both of your brains before the cops got here, you'd be in trouble for that alone."

Dean's foot nudged the knife handle, and he shifted his hips, trying to slide down as far as the cuffs would let him. He started to slide it closer, moving slowly, so as not to attract too much attention. He had to get out of the cuffs so he could take down Adler, and work on getting Cas back to his normal mental state. All of this would be better accomplished if he could do it while they were having their pissing contest with each other.

Castiel put his hands on his hips, cocking one to the side. "I don't even know why you were brought back anyway. We were so much better without your annoying presence. I suppose someone needed to act as the villain. Besides myself, of course."

"Okay," Adler sighed, dropping his hands to his sides and stepping closer. "I've had enough crazy talk. From what the little fake angels had said, I thought this would be more impressive. Time to get back on the gurney and finish your shock treatment."

Castiel outright laughed at that. "Oh really? That's it then? I'm just supposed to hop back up there and let you finish killing me off? When has that EVER worked?!"

Dean curled his leg up under himself, pulling the knife to the pipe. He slid his arms down until they were level with the floor, fingers reaching and just barely grazing the handle. He wiggled his wrist in the cuffs, trying to give himself a little more room.

Adler took a step toward Castiel, arms reaching out. "It's not really that I expect you to follow the command. Although it'd be nice. It's more to the effect that I just like to hear myself talk."

"Obviously," Castiel snickered. He took a step back, leaning against the bed. "We can tell. Since you keep talking and all."

"You're a lot funnier than the other voice in your head," Adler snarked back.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied. "I don't know what you're wanting to do. I've already broken the machine, remember?" He tipped his head in the direction of the electrotherapy machine, which he'd flipped over after getting off the gurney.

Adler frowned. "It's not as if we don't have more. I'll just have to take you into another room is all."

"Like I'm going anywhere with you," Castiel grinned. "No, you're going to meet your end here. Because as annoying as the little human is, at least he's more interesting than you."

Dean froze as attention was called to him. He curled in on himself, his leg blocking the knife from their view. Castiel spared him a glance, although Adler didn't even bother. When the director stepped closer, blue eyes left his own, focusing back on his opposition. Dean started working again, managing to curl his fingers around the knife enough to pick it up. Manoeuvring a bit, he forced the tip of the blade into the keyhole of the cuffs, working on picking the lock.

He watched as Adler and Castiel stood off, either waiting for one to make the first move. For all that Castiel looked calm and unconcerned, his eyes were sharp, watching the director's every twitch. Adler narrowed his eyes, anger making his face flush red. It was like neither wanted to be the first to give away their position, a standoff to keep whatever ground they held. Dean took advantage of it, twisting the knife in the lock. He’d picked harder cuffs before, but it still took time that he didn’t have, and keeping one eye on the other two left him unfocused.

Finally Adler let out a snarl of frustration, making a lunge for the other. Castiel grinned ferally, welcoming it. He caught the director by the arm before he could take a proper swing, twisting him around to fold the arm against his back, twisted at a painful angle. Castiel leaned in close, hissing against Adler’s ear. “You’re pretty boring. Such a shame. All the trouble to get me to wake up, and you can’t even entertain me. I’d hate to see how you act with guests.”

Adler started to protest, to grumble out a come back, but Castiel was having none of it. He wrenched the director’s arm up, up, until the sound of his shoulder popping echoed through the room. Adler yelled out in pain, and Dean winced. Castiel chuckled, a low, threatening rumble in his throat, and held the other where he was.

“I didn’t quite catch that, Doctor...”

Another sharp twist, and another shout. Dean worked quickly, barely paying attention to the pair of them any more; it wasn’t like they paid him any mind. After a few more tries, he heard the lock click, and the cuffs gave way. Just as Dean slid his arm free, Castiel let go of Adler, giving him a small shove forward.

Adler was just as surprised as Dean was, and the director spun to face the dark- haired man, fury in his eyes. Castiel met eyes with Dean, giving him a wink before reaching out, grabbing the doctor on either side of his jaw, giving a savage twist.

“Fuck!” Dean couldn’t even take a step before Adler’s body crumpled to the floor, neck snapped. He stared at Castiel, eyes wide as the patient started to giggle maniacally. Dean’s grip tightened on the knife, backing up into a defensive move.

Castiel’s grin split his face almost impossibly wide, tilting his head as if examining Dean with a sense of giddy fascination. “What are you gonna do with that, hmm? Are you gonna cut up this pretty little angel? I know you won’t. You’re too attached to him to hurt him, poor things. Too bad you’ll never see him again.”

Dean stood his ground as Castiel slid closer, easing himself into Dean’s personal space. He linked his fingers over Dean’s shoulders, grinning at him. Dean scowled, but he knew the other was right. He couldn’t hurt... whatever this was, not when there was a chance Castiel could get hurt.

“I’ll tell you a secret, since you’re so much fun,” Castiel rested his chin on the crook of Dean’s neck, whispering in his ear. “He’s here, watching right now. Your poor little angel, trapped inside his own head while I’m out here with you.”

“Why don’t you fuck back to whatever corner of his brain you came from and let Cas back in control?” Dean ground out, teeth clenched.

Castiel chuckled, dragging a hand slow up through the hair at the back of Dean’s neck. “Why don’t you make me?”

“Dean!”

Both turned to the door to see Sam leaning against the frame, out of breath. He stared at the two of them, surprised but relieved. His eyes slid to Adler on the floor. “Dean, what happened?”

“Sam, don’t--!” Dean started, but Castiel pushed him away before he could finish his warning, slamming him headfirst against the tile wall. Dean slid to the floor, seeing spots, as Castiel grabbed the knife from his hand, turning to attack Sam.

By the time Sam realized Castiel was actually coming at him with a knife, there wasn’t time to do more than fall back out of the doorway. He stumbled, falling on his ass, narrowly ducking out of the way as Castiel lunged over him. The patient got caught on one of Sam’s legs, toppling over him with a snarl.

Sam kicked at him, struggling to separate from the other and get to his feet. He needed to disarm the smaller man and figure out what happened. Castiel lashed out with the knife, grazing Sam’s calf. It wasn’t a serious wound, but he hissed nonetheless. He reached for the other, hand wrapping around the wrist holding the knife. He wasn’t expecting Castiel to bite his hand, hard. Sam let out a yelp, yanking his hand back.

Castiel took advantage of the distraction, raising the knife. Sam braced himself for the cut, when he felt something slam into his side, knocking both himself and Castiel to the floor once again. Balthazar was on top of Castiel, straddling the other patient’s waist and grappling with him for the knife.

Sam reached to intervene but Castiel pulled his arm free from Balthazar’s grip, plunging the knife into the blond’s chest. Balthazar gasped, freezing in place. His hand went up to the wound, eyes wide as he coughed up a bit of blood, staring at Castiel.

“Cas...” Balthazar choked out, before his body fell to the side, dropping lifeless at Castiel’s side.

Sam stared in shock as Castiel kicked Balthazar’s leg off of him, getting to his feet. Castiel spared a withering look at the other patient, before taking off down the hall toward the exit tunnels.

oOoOo

“They’re not coming back,” Crowley tapped his foot impatiently. “We need to go, we can’t wait any longer for them.”

“And what are we going to do if we make it out, huh?” Gabriel snapped, rounding on the other. “When the cops pick us up, are they just gonna believe a few mental patients? Face it, Crowles, we’re not getting anywhere without those two.”

“We’re not getting anything done by fighting,” Az said quietly. “Balthazar hasn’t come back either. If we keep going back one at a time, Adler’s going to get all of us.”

Lucifer nodded, pushing off from the wall. “We’re all going back then. Everyone stay together, and yell if you see anything.” He took the lead, heading back the way they’d come.

Gabriel huffed out a breath, his hand tightening around Anna’s. She went with him, easily as always. Crowley grumbled but followed after the rest of them. Az slid an arm around his, staying close.

They didn’t get far before Lucifer stopped them with an arm out to halt progress. He could hear something shuffling down the hall, too dark to see more than the outline of a figure making its way toward them. He leaned forward, trying to squint in the darkness, keeping the others at bay.

The shuffling stopped. Lucifer had time to take a step towards the figure before it broke into a full run. He shoved Gabriel back, urging them all to run, nearly falling on him in the process.

The figure reached out, grabbing Lucifer by the collar and yanking him away from the others. Gabriel screamed as Castiel came into view, Lucifer held against his chest long enough to cut his throat from one end to the other with his knife.

Castiel threw Lucifer aside, smile wide and full of teeth. “Surprise, little angels.”

“Castiel!” Az gasped, staring horrified at the other. “What have you done?”

“That’s not Castiel,” Gabriel all but fell into them as he pressed back, urging them all back away. He refused to turn his back on the other, not even for a second. He didn’t know all of what Leviathan was capable of, but he’d just seen that murder wasn’t out of range. “That’s Leviathan.”

Castiel snickered, taking calm steps forward. He gave the group plenty of time to back away, amused with stalking them like a cat would a group of mice. “Got it in one. Good job.”

“So what, the angel’s lost his mind?” Crowley grabbed at Gabriel’s shoulder, trying his best to keep them all together. Az did his best to shield Anna, who merely looked at the dark- haired angel with a distanced curiosity.

Castiel seemed to find that even more amusing, showing teeth as he smiled. “This is hardly the place to talk about a person’s mental stability...”

“Leviathan is older than the angels. The failed work of our Father, locked away,” Gabriel glared. “I dunno how you got out, but no one wants you here, and we’ll fight to send you back.”

“Speak for yourself, angel,” Crowley grumbled.

Castiel tipped his head, far more than he would had he been in his normal state. The angle looked almost impossible, as if it would snap at any moment. “Really? You want to fight with me? Oh this IS entertaining!”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, taking a step away from the others and standing firm. “Get the hell out of my brother, you disgusting pile of ooze.”

Castiel was on him in a matter of seconds, tackling the shorter man to the ground. Az yelped in shock, barely holding Anna back as she tried to dive for her protector. Crowley pushed the pair of them back down the hall bodily, keeping them away from the fight. Castiel and Gabriel traded blows, kicks, punches and even a few bites. They clawed at each other on the floor, trying to get in any sort of injury they could. But where Gabriel was determined, Castiel was stronger, or else he didn’t feel pain in his current mindset. No matter how many blows Gabriel landed, Castiel just laughed them off before returning them.

Gabriel managed to turn his head enough to see the other three, hissing out a sharp “Go!” before Castiel’s fingers wound into his hair, yanking his attention back on the fight. Az started to protest, but Crowley was having none of it, grabbing both of them by the arms and making a run for it. He looked pained as he did so, and Gabriel could understand. He wanted them to escape. He knew that he was the one destined to fight the Leviathan. He just didn’t know who was destined to win.

“Your friends left you alone, little angel,” Castiel cooed, his grip on Gabriel’s hair keeping him pinned to the floor. “It’s just you and me now.”

“What happened to Dean and Sam?” Gabriel snapped. “And Balthazar, what did you do with them?!”

Castiel dodged the punch Gabriel aimed at his jaw, longer limbs keeping the other out of reach. “Oh, they were such fun. I can tell you what I did to them, if you really want. Every bloody detail.”

Gabriel snarled, lashing out in a flurry of arms and feet, not even trying to hit anything in particular, just trying to hit anything at all. Castiel didn’t even try to block the blows at this point, using his weight to press the other harder against the tile floor.

“I’m going to do the same to you,” he sing- songed. “And then I’m going to catch your friends, and take them out as well. And poor little Castiel, he’ll never get over it. The guilt of watching himself kill all his friends. It will crush him, and I’ll be free of his annoying control for good!”

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply, but Castiel yanked his head up by the hair, only to slam it against the floor once again. The angel cried out in pain, white dancing across his vision. He grabbed at Castiel’s wrist, trying to dislodge him, but the other’s grip remained tight. Castiel repeated the motion, another sharp thud against the tile and another cry from the angel.

It took four more strikes, and Gabriel didn’t make any more noise.

After six, Castiel was bored. Another broken toy to be discarded. He got to his feet, kicking the lifeless body aside. And true to his word, he continued down the hall, intent on finding the rest of them.

oOoOo

Sam shook his brother’s shoulder, trying in vain to wake him. He couldn’t just leave him here, but he needed to go after Castiel. The others were in danger as well, and he had to keep the berserk patient away from everyone until backup arrived that could contain him.

“Dean, c’mon!” Sam shook him again. With an aggravated growl, he looped his brother’s arm over his shoulders, getting up and dragging the other along. Sometimes there were benefits to being the bigger younger brother.

He moved as fast as Dean’s limp form would let him, stumbling down the hall. He winced as they passed by Balthazar’s body, but he couldn’t stop and be sad for the other. He was a police officer, and people’s lives depended on him keeping a clear head and getting them to safety.

Halfway down the corridor, Dean let out a groan, shifting against his side. “Sammy...?”

Sam exhaled in relief. “Dean, thank god. Can you walk? You’re kinda heavy, and I’m trying to be quick here.”

“Good mornin’ to you too, bitch,” Dean grumbled, putting more weight onto his legs. “What happened?”

Sam let go of his arm, pausing for a moment in case the other couldn’t walk. When he was sure Dean wasn’t going to fall over, he started moving again, urging his brother to keep pace. “Castiel. He killed Balthazar and ran off. The others are trapped at a dead end down here, and he’s headed straight for them.”

Dean hissed out a curse. “Leviathan. That ain’t Cas. It’s something in his head.”

“They’re mental patients, Dean, there’s something wrong with all their heads.”

“This is different,” Dean insisted. “But he’s gotta be stopped. We gotta get Cas back before he hurts anyone else.”

Sam skidded to a halt, causing Dean to run into him, nearly toppling them both over. Before Dean could bite out a complaint, Sam reached back, grabbing for Dean’s sleeve.

“I think we’re too late...”

 

Dean looked past his brother’s shoulder at the scene in the hall. Blood was everywhere, splattered against the walls and in puddles on the floor. Lucifer lay sprawled on the floor, the gash along his throat still oozing blood into the biggest puddle. A little bit away, Gabriel was tossed at an angle, his face bruised and battered. The blood pooling around his head gave a pretty good idea of what had happened.

“Jesus...” Dean stared at the two in shock, choking back bile in his throat. “We’ve gotta find the others, before he gets to them.”

Sam nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His shoulders slumped for a moment before training took over, driving him on. The pair continued down the hall, urgency in their step even faster than before. The hall got narrower as they went on, and soon the brothers saw a shadow dancing along the wall. Dean pushed himself faster, ready to lunge at the figure. As soon as it came into proper view, however, he skidded to a halt as his stomach lurched.

The figure wasn’t Castiel, it was Crowley. The patient wasn’t standing, however. He was hanging lifelessly from one of the overhead pipes, a frayed electrical cord wrapped around his neck.

Dean stepped back, eyes wide. Behind him, Sam hissed out a curse as he took in the scene. Before either could say anything more, a wet noise caught their attention further down the hall. It was too dark to see very far, but the slick noise of something hitting the floor couldn’t be a good thing. With a quick look to his brother, Dean started down the corridor, careful and quiet. Sam followed, only the soft sound of their shoes in the tile competing with the noise they headed towards.

At the end of the hall, near the door that had blocked them earlier, a figure crouched, his back to the detectives. There were two more on the floor, and the noise came as one of the bodies was stabbed rhythmically and mindlessly by the crouching patient, with no real effort. Bright red hair and a pair of glasses discarded on the floor gave the pair all they needed to confirm Anna and Az as the last of the victims. A sharp intake of breath from Sam and the other turned to face them, Castiel’s wrong- looking grin curling once again on his lips.

“Cas...” Dean started.

If Castiel heard him, he didn’t make any recognition of it, standing at his full height and swaying back and forth. His words came out in a sing- song tone, cooing. “Three little angels, running down the hall, the demon got caught and then took the fall. Nothing left to do but get them all, no more little angels running down the hall~”

Before Dean could comment on how creepy he thought that was, Castiel was moving again with surprising speed, pushing past Dean and sending the detective against the wall. Dean let out a yelp, quickly righting himself before Castiel could draw his knife and get to Sam.

He grabbed at Castiel’s back, fingers curling in the other’s sweater and yanking back as hard as he could. The patient was jerked backwards, stumbling. Frustrated, Castiel growled low in his throat, turning on Dean as much as he was able with the other’s grip on his clothing. Sam let out a shout, reaching for the other’s hand. Dean didn’t have time to react before the knife was raised, ready to slash at his face.

Then Castiel stopped. Both brothers watched as Castiel froze in place, shaking, his breath quickening. Tears welled in his eyes, dripping down his face as he looked up, eyes locking with Dean’s.

“Dean...”

Dean felt himself chill instantly, letting go of the sweater. “Cas...?”

Castiel nodded once, biting down hard on his bottom lip. “I... I can’t keep them back for long...”

Shaky hands rested on Castiel’s shoulders, Dean pulling him closer. “It’s okay, just keep at it. We’ll find a way to fix it, okay? Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Slowly, still trembling, Castiel’s hand lowered, the knife still held in a tight grip. “I can’t, Dean. I don’t... they’re too strong...”

“You’re doing great, Cas,” Dean insisted, moving one of his hands from the patient’s shoulder, reaching for his hand. “Just let me have the knife, okay?”

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, hissing through his teeth like he was in pain. Dean worried for a second that when he opened them, it would be Leviathan instead. However, the same desperate blue gaze was turned on him once more, letting Dean take the blade from his fingers. When his hand was free, he reached up, grabbing at Dean’s sleeve and holding on tightly.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know, Cas. You just need help, okay? We’ll get you through this.”

“It isn’t that simple, Dean. I’m barely keeping them back, and... the things they made me do... I don’t deserve to be in control... but I couldn’t let them hurt you. So I fought. I can’t keep it up for much longer, though. You have to stop them.”

His hand slid down, wrapping around the wrist holding the knife. He looked at Dean, pleading. The intent hit Dean like a ton of bricks, and he shook his head frantically.

“Cas, no, I’m not doing that, okay? You just need help, we’ll take care of you.”

“You can take care of me by ending this now!” Castiel snapped, desperate. “I thought I could control them, and I was wrong. This is the only way, or they’ll just hurt more people. You have to do this, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“Dean...” Sam started, his voice quiet with sympathy.

“Quiet Sam!” Dean’s voice cracked, his eyes darted to his brother’s for a moment, before landing back on Castiel. “You can’t ask me to do this, Cas. I was supposed to help you guys...”

“This is the best thing for everyone, Dean, trust me.”

“Cas, I can’t...”

Castiel winced in pain once again. He curled in on himself a bit, locking eyes with Dean. His grip tightened on Dean’s wrist, and he yanked the other’s arm forward. The knife in Dean’s hand stabbed into his middle easily. Dean’s eyes widened, mouth opening in shock as Castiel’s breath hitched in a pained groan, leaning his weight against the detective.

“I’m sorry, Dean...”

“Cas! Fuck, why would you--?!” He couldn’t move, couldn’t do more than hold Castiel upright. The knife slipped from his hand, slick with blood from the wound, and Castiel slumped against him, eyes half- lidded. “No, no, no, no, no! C’mon Cas, stay with me!”

The patient’s head lolled to the side, resting heavily on Dean’s shoulder. He coughed, sending a bit of blood across his lips and Dean’s shirt. Letting his eyes close all the way, Castiel clung to Dean until the grip was gone from his arms, and they fell lifeless to his sides.

Dean’s voice was hoarse, raw. “Cas...”

Sam took a step toward them.

Then everything went white.


	12. Hold still right before we crash 'cause we both know how this ends...

Dean shut his eyes against the sudden brightness, holding Castiel closer, protectively. Eventually, the light faded to a more manageable level, and he blinked his eyes open, seeing spots.

It was still bright, dazzling white that a basement tunnel had no right to be. The weight in his arms was gone, when Dean looked down, Castiel was nowhere to be found. Sam was gone as well, the hall empty of anyone, dead or alive. Dean got to his feet quickly, looking around frantically for his brother. A call was on his lips when footsteps started down the corridor, coming toward him. He turned on a heel, facing the end of the hall they came from, just as the sound stopped.

“Dean.”

Dean started. Leaning against the wall, as if he’d been there the whole time, was Chuck. The guard heaved a sigh, pushing off the wall and stepping closer.

“Chuck?! What the hell?” Dean ran shaking hands through his hair. He stopped, remembering the blood that should be on them, but when he looked at his palms, they were clean. “What...?”

“It’s time for you to make a decision, Dean.”

Dean stared at him, incredulous. “I don’t even know what’s going on! The past hour has probably been the most confusing time of my life! I don’t know where my brother is, and everyone I was put here to save is dead! I really don’t have time for your cryptic bullshit, Chuck! How are you even still alive?”

Chuck’s mouth twitched up, the barest hint of a smile. “Would you believe me if I told you it’s because I’m God?”

Dean’s shoulders slumped, shaking his head. “At this point, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve heard.”

“Sam’s fine, don’t worry.” Chuck leaned back on his heels, arms folding behind his back in a restless fidget. “Things will all be back to normal once you decide what to do.”

He scowled. “Normal like how? If you’re God, can’t you just fix all this?”

“That’s what I was trying to do,” the other replied. “Although I guess I could’ve gone for less ‘spooky noir’ feel. Sorry about that. I am a writer, after all.”

“What are you even talking about, Chuck?” Dean sighed, rubbing his face with a hand.

“Okay, so... this whole thing isn’t real. You and Sam aren’t detectives, you’re hunters. And the angels from the Wing, they’re really angels. It’ll all come back to you in a second. Kinda like that corporate life Zachariah threw you into before the Apocalypse.”

Before Dean could protest, Chuck reached forward, tapping his temple with two fingers. It was like being shocked awake from a dream. Dean and Sam Winchester, hunters. Team Free Will, stopping the Apocalypse. Castiel, fighting civil war in heaven and opening Purgatory. Leviathans. Castiel, walking into the lake.

Dean staggered back, leaning against the wall. “Shit...”

“The point I was trying to make,” Chuck continued, as if Dean weren’t having his memories thrown at him with the force of a baseball bat, “I’m handling this Leviathan situation. I’m not sure what to do about the angel situation though.”

“What do you mean, the angel situation? Shouldn’t that have been dealt with already? Most of them are dead anyway!”

Chuck gave him a pointed look.

“Right, God. Whatever. What do you need from me, Chuck?”

“I set this up because I wanted to give you the final say. Think of this as your heavenly reward for dealing with all the kids.”

“You want me to decide what happens to the angels?”

“And Crowley. Technically. Yeah.”

Dean shrugged. “Well, that’s not so hard, I guess...”

“There’s a catch.”

“Of course there is.”

“The reason I set this all up, instead of just letting you decide from past experience, is that you can’t single them out.” Chuck crossed his arms, giving his sternest expression. Which admittedly wasn’t that impressive.

“Single them out?”

“You can’t just choose your favorites, Dean. All of them have messed up, it wouldn’t be fair to just choose Castiel over the others.”

Dean made a face, as if he’d been considering just that. “Even Zach?”

Chuck smiled. “Even Zach. I’m not saying there won’t be consequences for their actions. Just that they’d be forgiven, in a general sense.”

“Isn’t forgiveness your whole deal?”

“Usually. But I figure this is a special set of circumstances. So I want you to think about it for a bit, and let me know what you decide. Then I’ll wrap it up from there.”

Dean frowned. “So you’re gonna go with whatever I decide? Even if I figure I don’t want any of them around anymore?”

Chuck raised an eyebrow. “Would you really want that?”

“Just testing my limits.”

“If that’s really what you wanted, then yeah.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of pressure on a guy, Chuck.”

The other smiled. “I have a feeling you can handle it.”

Before Dean could respond, Chuck was gone, and the hall was empty once more. Dean frowned. It wasn’t much of a decision, was it? As much damage as say, Zach or Lucifer had done, if Chuck was willing to forgive them based on Dean’s wishes, it kind of seemed like he had no right to say no. It’s not like they were getting off scott free. And in this created timeline, he’d been ready to save them all, even those that had fought him. It wasn’t really so much different in the normal world.

It wasn’t as if the ones that were still alive hadn’t made bad choices either.

Dean sighed, looking up at the ceiling for lack of a better place to put his attention. “Okay, Chuck, I’ve made my decision.”

There was no reply, aside from the hall growing unbearably white once again. Dean put an arm over his eyes to block it out. When the light dimmed again, he moved his arm, looking around. Instead of the tile walls of the asylum’s basement, he found himself in Bobby’s guest room, sitting on the floor and leaning against the door. He sighed, letting his head fall back, resting against the wood. There was a weight against his side, and a glance down found Castiel curled up beside him, the angel’s head on the hunter’s leg. He breathed out a relieved breath, his hand falling to rest in the angel’s hair. He relaxed against the door, fingers toying with dark strands.

The movement made Castiel’s eyes flutter open. His gaze quickly darted to Dean, and he tensed. Dean kept his hand moving through Castiel’s hair, his head against the door.

“Dean...”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean smiled, small and tired. “I get it. We’ll work it out. I’m just... I’m glad you’re okay, man.”

He felt the angel relax under his hand. “I apologize.”

“Cas, I told you, we’ll work on it.”

“That wasn’t what I was apologizing for.”

“Then what--?”

And then Castiel was moving, sliding up from the floor and kissing Dean. Dean let a surprised noise into the kiss before getting with the program, kissing back enthusiastically. When they parted for breath, Dean found himself with a lap full of angel, Castiel’s hands curled into his collar. Dean blinked at him, and Castiel’s lips quirked into a tiny grin.

“If I was going to start working on earning your forgiveness, I wanted to do that. I thought I might pool all my transgressions in one.”

Dean chuckled, hands coming to rest on the angel’s legs. “I think that might count more into the positive category than the negative.”

Castiel gave him a stern look, but the twist to his lips softened it. “Dean, if you let me win your forgiveness by kissing you senseless, it’s hardly a punishment.”

“We’ll work on it.” He gave the angel a wink, before moving in to kiss Castiel once again.

A moment later, someone banged on the door, startling them into separating. “The fuck?”

“Dean,” Sam’s voice came from the other side. “You’d better get out here. Um... there’s a bunch of dead angels in the living room, talking about taking care of the Leviathan.”

Dean grinned at Castiel. “Well how about that.”


End file.
